


Fallen

by Anis5240



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anis5240, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, I have special plans for Wes - Freeform, not really sure about that last tag tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anis5240/pseuds/Anis5240
Summary: He was tired of being part of Their game. A deal was struck (again) and all hell break loose. AU.Updates will be done weekly (if possible).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic for this fandom (1st was 'Beware of the Dark', will put it here as well)! Inspired by the fanfic 'New Game' on FF.net, go check it out!!

It was a normal scene for him to stare into the endless void ahead, the only light source inside the room was from the fire conjured in the two stone pillars beside him. He had long lost count on how many days he had stayed there, in which the phases of the moon was his only indicator that time had passed at all. An upbeat ragtime tune was playing from a gramophone on his right side, echoing around the building.

He admitted, the music was quite okay for his taste during the first time he heard it. After a while, it got old and now, he didn't even know what to think of it. For whatever reason, he still didn't understand why the tune was chosen as a form of torture though he had known now it served as a bringer of doom to whoever heard it.

As a distraction to clear his mind from the grating music, he absent-mindedly tossed something between his hands.

It was a chess piece, unknown of its original form but it kept morphing back into either a white pawn or a black king. The more he tossed it around, the faster the transformation blurred from his sight and he barely paid any attention until it slipped out from his right hand and fell onto the cold floor with a clank.

He watched in silence as the white pawn rolled aside slowly and stopped, its round head was pointing at him. He smiled bitterly and tried to get up, only for shadowy bonds wrapped around his arms and legs, and he was strapped back into his seat.

He gazed in resignation at the black limbs and knew his efforts were all futile. No one could ever escape from the Nightmare Throne, as he recalled the few attempts he did when he was first dragged into the throne to replace the man before him.

He glanced back at the pawn and his eyes twitched in anger. His predecessor had told him before the 'replacement' that his position was the King of the Constant though the truth, he was merely just a pawn to Them. Everyone in the world was in fact, a plaything for Them. He didn't know who They are, but he decided that They were the actual rulers of the Constant.

Sometimes, They insisted him to bring other people to the world to see how successful they were at surviving. He had high hopes at the beginning that maybe he will get some company when he saw a number of them had gone through the Door and completed the challenges.

Alas, the light of hope was detested by Them and he was forced to watch as the survivors encountered gruesome death by many causes that he hated. _Spiders, hounds, tallbirds_ ; so many creatures that will not hesitate to kill if one wasn't careful.

In the end, he no longer brought anyone to the Constant as a punishment for Them. They in return, protested by yelling and shoving horrible thoughts into his head and even actually caused the gramophone to play the ragtime tune louder but he managed to fight back and kept his sanity intact, thanks to the gentleman side of him.

Now, he somewhat had a truce with Them. He could sense that They had a bit of respect to him for being able to stay sane after the hassle They did to him, in which They had told him he was almost as worthy as the old King.

If anything, he knew that They were also curious on what he could do for Them; to trap more people there, allowing Them to feed on their fear.

Back to reality, he lazily casted a black, shadowy arm with a wave of his hand and it snaked its way toward the white pawn, handing it to him before disappearing. He studied the chess piece and with a flash, it turned into a black one. He smiled weakly; it was his true position after all.

He held the pawn in his right hand and sighed; it had been a long time since he brought the newest survivor, and They were starting to get impatient. They had tolerated his decision when he told them he will take a victim on each new moon to get them used to the world, and he wouldn't take it for granted.

He checked the world from a grey orb he conjured to see the survivor's progress only to find out he had died, caught by the darkness. Apparently his own stupidity of not having a light source was the cause of his demise, he concluded. He smirked, he wasn't too fond of that one, being a bit too confident for his liking.

It also meant that he will have to find a new one to fit the pattern They had instructed; someone whose name began with a 'W'.

He wasn't that surprised; his own name started with the letter and he was sure that was among the reason he was pulled into the Constant by the old King. He however, couldn't help but to wonder if people in the real world knew about the disappearance regarding the ones that he had taken and before long, believing that the 'W' names were cursed.

He slumped into the Nightmare Throne and ran his fingers over his hair, which he was fond of. A loose strand of hair got entangled and he pulled it out before shaking it off. At this rate, he might as well be a copy of the old King; waiting for someone to replace him.

He shook his head; he was the better man! He had knowledge at his side while his forerunner was skilful in magic, though he could just rival that if he wasn't being too distrustful with the force. The information he had got from both the deal he had struck and the Throne was more than enough, but he could manage that.

To tell the truth, he wanted to be different from the other Kings that had indirectly ruled over the Constant. And he knew that They know he had the potential of being so; he was just conflicted on either accepting the role or not.

And so, with a plan he had formed for ages since he became the new King, he held his head high and spoke,

"Say pal, how does a deal sound for you?"

**(line break)**

From afar, the Grue known as Charlie watched as the New King made a deal with Them. She had felt the change of the Throne and had come to watch the successor for herself. She instantly liked the man's hairstyle and the way he kept himself composed all the time.

 _Almost worthy of the old King_ , she thought as the man explained parts of the deal to Them. She could tell right away he was planning something else in his brilliant mind, though she couldn't shake the bad feeling in her heart that it was a very risky idea and he would be extremely lucky if They agreed.

To her surprise, They do.

She could only watch as both sides shook their agreement (a red shadow hand was casted by Them) and the man was suddenly engulfed by the black limbs of the Nightmare Throne. She turned away in horror when it happened. By the time she faced back, he wasn't anywhere; a black cocoon was in his place on the throne.

Knowing she had seen enough, she bowed to the Throne and Them, casting a worrying glance to the cocoon.

"Whatever you do, I hope you know what you did," she whispered sadly before leaving, "King Wilson."


	2. New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter from the Puppet Master's POV, enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated!!

It was dark and cold. He wasn't too sure what had happened after the survivor had put the divining rod into its holder; all he thought that he had died, being free from the cursed throne forever. He smiled; at least he wasn't suffering anymore.

Then he heard some noise. He tried to ignore it and returned to his dreamland but to no avail. Frustrated, he opened his eyes, rubbing them groggily for a while before looking up with a slight pain in his head.

It was such a beautiful day.

His smile grew wider; he hadn't seen daylight ever since he was pulled into the realm and being held captive by Them. And so, he got up and ran around in joy, laughing heartily.

"Freedom, at last!" he called out, spinning around as if he had won a big lottery prize. He went on until the throbbing in his head pulsed again and he lay down on the ground, heaving relieved sighs to ease his headache.

He glanced aside when he heard a buzz and continued to watch as a bee came toward a red flower, picking its pollens before it went to another. The sight of the flower and its foul smell reminded him of something.

Then it came tumbling down.

He sat up and stared in horror at the evergreens, the leafless saplings, the bushes, the redbirds and crows...

...he was still stuck in the Constant.

Realization dawned onto him and he gulped in fright; he hadn't thought much about this world being so unforgiving from his point of view during his time on the Nightmare Throne. Now that he knew, he sighed miserably and got up, filled with determination to survive above anything else.

He dusted the dirt away from his three-piece suit and felt a bulge in his pocket. Curiously, he pulled out whatever was in there, and was more than surprised to see a book with the capital letter 'M' was on its cover.

The Codex Umbra.

He stared at the book for a long time, memories of his past came flashing in his mind. Only when a redbird fluttered by did he noticed the day hadn't changed much; the sun was still out, ensuring every friendly creature there with its radiant light.

But he knew he was wasting time, so he kept the tome inside his jacket and went venturing.

(line break)

He managed to collect a large number of cut grass, twigs, logs and even found four gold nuggets from the graveyard. The food he gathered too, was more than enough for him to satiate his hunger.

He had just plucked a berry bush clean when the sun finally set down, causing the world to darken slightly.

"Charlie will be waking up soon," he noted a bit melancholically, and began to start a campfire. It was rather tedious, having to make fire the old way, but it worked and he beamed proudly before sat on the grassy ground.

"Sure beats darkness," he said before starting to cook some of the berries. He had seen some rabbits around the biome and decided to catch some if he got time.

"That fire is small and boring."

He stopped and looked up, seeing a young woman in red and black before him. In her hand was a small lighter with a flower engraved on its body.

"At least it does its job well," he countered, setting the berries aside. "Say pal, you're new here?"

"Not really, just got here a few days ago," she replied and sat across the fire. He shifted slightly as she pulled out three bundles of grass before adding them to the fire, making it blaze brightly. "That, is a real fire," she grinned and scooted closer.

Just as she did so, night came.

He was slightly taken aback at the sudden change but then frowned at the person opposite him; surely the heat didn't bother her much if she was willing to stay close as possible to it. But here was a companion, and he was more than elated. He only felt a bit uncomfortable with her interest of fire.

"So..." he cleared his throat and tugged his red tie loosely, "Maxwell's the name."

"Willow," was the reply. "That's not your real name, isn't it?"

His eyes widened in shock when he heard it.

"Well, it isn't," he confided after a long silence, wondering if she was reading his mind. "It's William. William Carter."

Willow smirked. "Nice to meet you, William." She held out her hand in which he instantly felt suspicious of her attempt. She somewhat reminded him of someone, what with her gesture and all.

"Just call me Maxwell," he insisted as they shook hands. "Besides, I hadn't use that name for a long time." He turned away from her with a sour look.

"Suit yourself," said Willow when he made no further moves of conversations. Her eyes then caught the faint glint of the gold nuggets. "You won't mind if I have one of your golds?"

Maxwell glanced a bit before handing her one. "What'd you have in mind with it?" he asked skeptically. "Something beneficial," she answered with a wide grin and thanked him for the gold before setting to work.

He only watched as she bent the gold using some rocks and arranged the logs so that they can support whatever she was working on. He admitted, she seemed to know things and was skilful to handle some work.

Just like someone he remembered.

He wondered what had happened to him. Judging from the long daylight, he probably had changed some rules of the Constant, and there will be more to come if he wasn't careful.

 _We_ , he corrected himself as his eyes fell onto Willow. He threw two more cut grasses into the fire to keep it going and gazed deeply into the darkness ahead, wondering what had happened to his once beautiful companion.

"Charlie..." he mumbled sadly, only to be pulled back into reality when he heard a clank. Annoyed, he exhaled deeply and turned to his partner to mind her own business but was stopped with the sight of a machine, its center was turning to emphasize its function.

"Say pal, how about we do some science?" Willow's grin broke his surprise.


	3. Working Out

The next day, Maxwell and Willow ended up experimenting with the Science Machine (the only name they could come up with) and had done many things with it. They managed to make backpacks and wooden chests to keep their supplies.

"Aren't we a bit too early for this?" spoke the man. "It's only day two. Why don't we go somewhere else?"

"Nothing too early to be done in this world," Willow almost snapped at him. "We need to be prepared as soon as possible." She put half of her logs into one of the chests.

Maxwell watched as she huffed in impatience while assorting her supplies. "This isn't your first time being here," he stated. "No, it isn't," was the confirmation.

"What's the point of surviving if you ended up dead and being resurrected again?" she finally cried out. "Though thank goodness, at least I have a partner now." She gave a half-smile to him, in which Maxwell returned.

"This place will take its toll toward you, especially at night," he casually said, fiddling with one of the gold nuggets, "You'd better keep your fire supplies stocked. Always."

She frowned, wondering what had made him say that. "I know that," she quietly replied, remembering the first night she was here. "Thanks for the heads up, though."

She got up and brushed off the dust from her black skirt, slinging a backpack over her shoulder. "Let's get going, shall we?"

(line break)

They continued to gather essential things for their (temporary) camp.

"Don't you think the day is quite long?" asked Willow as they rested under a large evergreen. They ate some roasted carrots, which was rather bland for their taste. "It sure is nice though, unlike those other times." Her eyes were downcast as she said those words.

"Someone at the Throne must have changed the day-night cycle," Maxwell replied almost immediately, and she spluttered.

"'Someone'? 'Throne'?" She looked at him in disbelief, wiping away bits of carrots on her lips. "Who is this 'someone'?"

"He's a nobody, but that doesn't mean he's not dangerous. In fact, I bet my Dark Sword he's planning something for us. Something sinister," Maxwell finished, taking no notice about her manners and she gulped.

The fact that they were being watched by unseen eyes alone had made her shudder.

"You seem to know a lot about this place," she finally choked out after a long silence.

"I was once the King here," he said wistfully. If the first fact didn't startle her much, this one surely did.

"You were the King? What happened? How did you get off? What even is this place?" she pestered him with questions.

"One question at a time, please," Maxwell huffed. "Besides, the sun is still out there; we can chat all day if you want."

"Not now though," said Willow and got up. "We collect more stuff, then at night we will talk." He nodded and they set off again.

(line break)

They barely managed to get back to their camp before night; wandering off-coast had been their mistake.

"That was a close one," Willow panted as she lit up the fire pit; the sunlight had just faded away seconds ago.

"It sure is," Maxwell sat across the fire pit, setting his backpack aside. He quickly shied away when Willow kept adding fuel to the fire. "Don't you think you're overdoing it?" he said, annoyed. "The light is more than enough, you know. Besides, you're wasting our resources."

"Anything to keep the darkness away," she simply replied; he couldn't help but to agree with her. The fire cracked merrily, in which she beamed and edged closer.

"You sure do like fire that much, did you?" he ventured.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Willow answered absent-mindedly, continued gazing at the blazing fire. Maxwell frowned upon hearing her words, but he shrugged the thought away. _People sure do have different tastes of beauty_ , he thought.

"I heard you said the name 'Charlie' last night," she spoke between silence, poking at the fire with a stick.

"She's a friend, though I doubt she'd ever recognized me now," the man gazed sadly at the darkness around them.

Willow followed his gaze, and felt sorry for him. _He surely had suffered a lot,_ she thought and slowly held his hand. He faced her and she smiled genuinely.

"Your story can be waited; sooner or later the truth will come out," she reassured him before letting go of his hand and pulled out her straw roll.

"Here, go to sleep, old man," she joked and gave it to him. "It's good for your health."

"Same goes for you," he retorted but he ended up taking the straw roll. "G'night." He then turned aside before drifting to sleep.

Willow continued to keep the fire going and ate every now and then, her eyes kept focusing at the man beside her. She wondered about him and his connection with this hostile place known as the Constant.

She also pitied on what had happened to him. Judging from the look he gave at the void around them, she concluded it didn't turn out well.

_We will get through this,_ she mentally said, toying around with her lighter. _Even with the unknown King was around._

(line break)

Maxwell couldn't sleep well that night.

He kept thinking about his successor on the Nightmare Throne, suffering at the hands of Them in his stead. He also wondered about one thing that have been bugging him ever since he woke up:

Why would he change the rules?

He remembered when the young man had gone through the Door and he, being the better man had challenged him to find him. The first three worlds he had set, he was sure the man would die in one of them.

At least he could start again when he was more prepared.

But, he was astounded to see the man was still well at the end of the third world, both physically and mentally. The place, as he called, the King of Winter was the continuity of the previous one; The Game is Afoot, and was very cruel, even to his standard.

He tried to make a truce with him at the fourth world, offering him everything he could think of. He guessed the man's curiosity got the better of him and he ventured ahead.

The fifth world was when he almost lose his patience. He scolded the man for not heeding his advice, and smirked before leaving, thinking about the man's death in Charlie's hands.

His surprise did not end there.

He watched as the youth successfully made his way through the perilous Clockworks' biome with a miner hat on his head shone the path before arriving at the destination.

Seeing it, he slumped in his eternal seat; he had finally found a successor. As the shaggy-bearded man stood before him later on, he told him everything he knew and could only watch as he inserted the key into the Nightmare Lock.

He admitted, he was sorry for everything he did back then. If he could turn back time, he would rather continue being the man who wasn't corrupted by dark magic than the fallen magician he was now.

Deciding that the current ruler of the Constant was doing the changes in the world for his own amusement, he closed his eyes with an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.


	4. Safe Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point you probably know that it's a Willowell fic, so deal with it.
> 
> Next chapter will be the New King's POV (I think).

Willow woke up upon hearing the chirp of a redbird beside her, and groggily rubbed her eyes before letting out a long yawn. She then stretched her ached body around and sighed when she heard the faint pops from her joints.

_Never sleep on the hard ground ever again, Willow_ , she told herself as she flexed her arms. She glanced toward her camp partner, Maxwell, who was still sleeping. The straw roll she gave him last night was barely there, and it seemed that he thrashed a lot when he slept.

She peered into the magician's face, gazing at the wrinkles all over his visage and wondered if he was much older than he looked.

Seconds later, Maxwell's eyes flew open.

"Gah!" she half-shrieked and stumbled. Maxwell gave her a frown as he sat up, so she continued sheepishly, "Sorry for disturbing you."

"It's alright, pal," he stifled a yawn. "Such a nice day." He took a deep breath and smiled; he missed the chilly, misty days back in New York City, and currently the air was pleasantly cool.

"I hate cold days," stated Willow, huffing a bit.

"It's the King's choice; he can do whatever he pleases to this place," the man replied nonchalantly. "That reminds me; we need more resources. Winter may come sooner than we thought, you know."

"Can't we take a break? Just for today?" Willow moaned and lay on the ground. "We have more than enough in here, and it doesn't seem to be anywhere as different as the last two days."

"You said it yourself that we need to be prepared well, pal."

"Let's be honest; I feel lazy right now. All I want to do at the moment is to sleep and forget that this isn't real."

"But we _are_ here. There's no escape from the Constant."

"You're just being pathetic. I will go and find the King himself if you won't mind."

"That's preposterous. He knows as much as I do about this world; probably to a lesser extent. Besides, I think he holds a grudge against me."

"What makes you say so?" Curiously, Willow egged on.

"Because he was now stuck to the Throne, bounded to Them. All because he felt sorry for me," Maxwell finished his story. He then faced her.

"Do I deserve to be pitied?" he asked quietly, tears brimmed in his eyes.

Willow could only stare at the man's dark eyes before smiling. "He took your place because you know about this world more than him," she started. "He decided that you have a better chance at finding a way to escape from here. And if I were him, I'd probably do the same."

"But that doesn't mean anything; he suffered in my stead," Maxwell averted his gaze.

"We will find a way to get out of here, Max," Willow squeezed his hand gently. "And we will save him, of course. Come, let's mine some boulders; we're almost out of cut stone anyway."

"I thought you don't want to do anything today," he said.

"Well, we can't let the King's gift go to waste, right? Besides, who knows how long this long-day cycle will go?" she coaxed him.

"Alright," the man sighed in defeat and grabbed his backpack.

(line break)

The next three days were almost the same; they got up, find some resources for their ever-growing camp and even fought spiders to take the glands and silks before returning to their 'home'.

The science machine that Willow built was replaced with an alchemy machine, which allowed them to build more complex items and eventually, they managed to make a tent for each other.

In the sixth day's evening, they sat across the fire pit, munching on some morsels.

"What do you think the King is doing right now, Max?" Willow made an attempt of a conversation after a long silence.

Said magician was staring absent-mindedly at a herd of beefalo which lived nearby.

"Max?"

He turned to her with an exasperated look. Willow felt as if she had said something that ticked his nerves.

"I told you to call me 'Maxwell', young Willow," he muttered.

"But that's quite a mouthful," the woman retorted with a sly smile. "And I definitely cannot call you 'William', what with you being mad and all about that name. So 'Max' is my only option."

"Please don't call me 'Max'; it's the only memory I have of Charlie," Maxwell said and her smile vanished. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be; I deserve this punishment."

They ate in silence and watched as the sun set for the day. The night in turn, came and surrounded the Constant with darkness; save for their fire pit which was providing enough light.

"So, who's going to stay awake for the night?" said Maxwell.

"You know that I always do; it's what I've done for the last three, no, four days," Willow replied.

"You need your sleep," stated the man firmly.

"We'll see. How about a game of rock-paper-scissors?"

(line break)

Even the Amazing Maxwell was defeated by a childish game.

"That's not fair," he mumbled grumpily as he headed to his tent later on. He wasn't too fond of losing.

"I'm a master in this game," Willow beamed proudly and claimed the fire pit for herself. "Sweet dreams, Maxwell!"

He snorted before entering the tent. "Sweet dreams indeed," he said sarcastically when he covered himself with a blanket made of beefalo wool.

He then fell asleep with a smile.

When he woke up the next day, the smile was barely there as he was reminded with the tasks awaited them for the day. Sighing, he opened the tent's covers and was wide-eyed.

It was still dark outside. Near the fire pit, Willow was adding fuel to the blazing flame.

"Wh-what _happened_?" he asked in disbelief as he sat beside her, unaware of the wavering in his voice.

The firestarter slowly faced him with a grim look.

"I don't think the sun will be out today." she informed.


	5. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New King had a new plan for the survivors; will they survive it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took place on the night of Maxwell and Willow's fifth day of survival.

Inside a building far away from the main island of the Constant, there was a black cocoon on the dark, regal seat known as the Nightmare Throne. The cocoon was somewhat human-shaped, with its most prominent feature was the three prongs at the top of the figure.

There was nothing else notable in the room, apart from the crackling of conjured fire in the two stone pillars, which accompanied the ragtime tune that kept playing from an ancient-looking phonograph beside the throne.

Suddenly, a crack appeared on the surface of the cocoon, and it went bigger as a hand clawed its way out; followed by a leg and finally, the face of a man.

He moved almost robotically while getting out from the black protective case that covered his whole body, not noticing it slowly seeped into his skin. When the cocoon was fully dissipated, he opened his bleary eyes before gazing at the half-moon with a smile.

He winced slightly as he flexed his limbs around, which were stiff after who-knows how long he had been inside the cocoon and leaned his back against the Nightmare Throne, feeling more relaxed.

Taking a glance at his attire (which didn't change much save for a comfy, black jacket), he noticed there was a badge pinned at his left side. Curiously, he inspected it and could see it had four sides; two of them had the shape of pawns while the other two were kings. Each pawn and king had contrasted colours and was placed opposite of one another.

There was also a small silver arrow which was currently pointing at the black pawn.

Smirking at the sight, he let go of the badge and stared at the endless void ahead, which was as inviting as always. The dark energy that surged from the Throne was somewhat making him restless, so he stood up to ease its flowing around his body.

That was when he caught sight of his arm; no longer wrapped in black, shadowy bonds like it was before.

Surprised, he looked at his other arm and his legs. He could not feel the usual strain the black limbs did to him whenever he got up from the regal seat.

He returned his gaze to the darkness and slowly, taking small steps away from the Nightmare Throne. With each step, he twitched in pain, considering he hadn't walked for ages since he was pulled into the regal throne. But, his euphoria increased and so, he strode farther, a wide grin plastered across his face.

He cried out in joy when he was nearing one of the stone pillars far ahead of the Throne and touched the cold headless marble statues; he hadn't touched anything aside from the rough, leathery binds of the seat and was more than elated to feel things around him again.

His happiness of finally being away from the Nightmare Throne was short-lived when he suddenly felt a painful headache, and he was forced to re-seat himself on the black throne. He almost sighed in relief as the shadowy bonds wrapped his limbs securely in place, refueling him with the dark energy he had come used to.

 _No matter_ , he thought as he snuggled deeper into the seat. _At least I know that They had fulfilled Their part. Now it's my turn._

Feeling better, he summoned the grey orb and peered into the main island of the Constant to see how the survivors were managing their lives.

He admitted, he had slightly changed the rules that his predecessor set before him. He made the days longer than they should be, which ensured the survivors with more time to prepare on what he had planned next.

A weak smile crept across his face as he browsed the map of the island. He briefly noted that a pair of survivors; a young blonde-haired girl and a stocky-built man were doing exceptionally well, despite the fact that the man needed more food than usual. And was rather cowardly when it comes to monsters and the darkness.

The girl however, somewhat had a cold, unfazing feeling around her that caught his interest. Deeming them to be worthy, he decided to keep track of their progress.

His smile faltered when he checked the other pair:

The magician and the firestarter.

Both of them had set up a rather grand camp, and his eyes filled with longing as he gazed at the structures they had built to ensure their survival.

The two of them were chatting happily while finishing their dinner, which was pierogi. The flames in the fire pit crackled merrily, providing them safety from the dangers of the night monster.

Or as he had known now, Charlie.

Glancing at his right hand before clenching his fists, he glared in fury at the sight of the magician, who seemed oblivious with the fact that his successor was watching him from afar.

He had intended to seek revenge toward the man who had made him suffer when he first arrived at the Constant. Now that he had the power all over the realm, he couldn't help it when his mouth broke into a sick, twisted grin.

"Charlie, my dear," he called to the darkness. He then waited, until an almost primeval presence of fear filled the air inside the room. Still with the grin on his face, he continued:

"You will have your reward very soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was somewhat shorter than I usually do (around 1000-ish) with only 850-something words.
> 
> *sigh*


	6. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the current day in the game (7th Day). Also introducing the Bereaved and the Strongman.
> 
> P.S: New chapter in span of two days?! Wow!!

The day went on without anything interesting happened. Mainly because it was pitch black despite the fact it was supposed to be sunny.

Maxwell only watched as his partner put a log into the fire pit to keep the fire going, thus protecting them from Charlie. But his thought went somewhere else; what would happen if they're out of woods?

"Maybe you should slow down a bit with that fire, Willow," he spoke with a concerned look. Even though he had spent his life in the darkness while sitting on the Nightmare Throne, the scene still gave him the creeps.

He guessed the challenges the King had set up for them had begun.

"Sure," the woman replied, brushing off the ashes that got stuck in her fingernails. As she gazed at the blazing flame, the magician's worry increased.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly. "Why shouldn't I?" she retorted.

"You've been staring at the fire for so long; I was wondering if you're starting to lose your sanity."

"Nonsense. Like I said before, fire is my friend. It will comfort me with its flares."

"Don't tell me-"

"Yes, I'm a pyromaniac."

Maxwell blinked his eyes hard when he heard her confession. He merely had thought her interest of fire was just a quirk.

"Your skills of building a fire was surely impressive," he tried to get back to her good side. "Thanks," was the short reply.

"How's our supply? Are there enough for us to last the day?" Maxwell queried. Willow took a moment before answering, "The food's fine; the woods aren't."

"We need more logs, then." "Yes."

"That means one of us have to leave to cut down the trees," the magician said in realization, his face was distraught.

"I will go," said Willow almost immediately and stood up. Stunned, he got up as well and called out in distress, "But you will lose your sanity if you're away from the fire!"

"It won't take long," she said, taking her backpack. "Besides, I have this little one." She showed him her lighter, in which she flicked it on with a wide smile.

Maxwell watched as the small flame flickered to life and lifted his gaze to the woman before him. "Be safe," he finally said, holding both of her hands.

"See you later, William," Willow teased before leaving. "And I want to see the fire's still on when I come back!" The faint radius from her lighter went further as he observed.

He had never felt so alone in his life as he waited for her return.

(line break)

On the other side of the Constant's main island, two survivors were resting beside their campfire when they heard a shriek.

"What was that?" one of them, a muscular man spoke in fright. He scooted closer to the campfire while looking back and forth at his surroundings with wide eyes.

"The darkness must had struck the unfortunate one," the other replied quietly. She was a girl with a red flower pinned above her right ear, and currently was caressing another flower in her palm with utmost care.

"Wolfgang dislikes darkness," he continued. "But if Miss Wendy gets hurt, Wolfgang will save you!"

"Thank you for your concern, Wolfgang," Wendy responded. "Why don't you get some sleep? It will be long before the next sunrise." She took out a straw roll from her backpack and gave it to him.

"But what about you, Miss Wendy?" Wolfgang asked in worry as he curled into the straw roll.

"I will keep watch on the fire. Rest well," she said, unfazed with his concern.

"See you tomorrow." With that, Wolfgang rolled aside before falling to sleep with a loud snore. Wendy's mouth almost lifted to a weak smile when she heard him before putting a bundle of grass to the fire.

_"You could just leave him here if you want to,"_ a voice suddenly spoke. She stopped and looked around in wary.

_"That's right; you have a better chance at surviving than your pathetic friend over there, whose facade was as worthy as dirt,"_ the phantom went on, its saccharine voice was gaining her attention.

Wendy turned to her partner and silently gulped; she did acknowledge Wolfgang's cheerful demeanor but had never thought about it until now.

_"With the help of your deceased sister, of course,"_ it continued. At the mention of her sister, Wendy hugged the red flower in her hands closer.

"Leave him?" she finally questioned curtly. "I don't think so." She placed another bundle of grass into the fire.

_"Why won't you?"_ the ghost queried.

"Partners are supposed to be loyal to each other, isn't it right?" she asked back.

_"But you are not loyal, young Wendy. In fact, you're merely using him to ensure your own safety,"_ the voice egged on. Wendy almost could feel whoever that talked to her was currently having a malicious grin on its face.

"In which I can't help but to profess the truth," she whispered. "We people tend to take advantages of one another, and in this world there are more to be."

Silence came over and Wendy wondered briefly if the whole conversation she just had was a figment of her imagination.

Then she heard a sound of a twig being stepped on and quickly brandished her axe. Her ghostly twin sister, Abigail was resting inside her flower and she didn't dare to wake Wolfgang up. She tightened her grip on the axe and raised the weapon, ready to attack.

That was when she faintly saw a pair of black shoes, just a bit far from the radius of the campfire.

"Greetings, fellow prisoner," she said perplexedly upon the sight and lowered her axe. "Step into the light or the darkness will kill you."

"I thought you aren't afraid of death," the shoes' owner replied cheerfully. "I don't," she retorted, noting that the person stood before her was a man. "It's just quite dramatic for a passing to the other side."

She heard a mirthful chortle before he continued, "Well, I have to admit, you are an interesting character, Miss Wendy. As for that, I decided to give you a reward."

"A reward?" she repeated, frowning.

"There's a pair of survivors up ahead in north. If you go there now, you may reach them by full moon," he explained. Wendy was having doubts about the information, but decided it wouldn't hurt to see if it was the truth.

"May I ask why you won't come into the light?" she asked. "The darkness is my friend," he told in return, "just like you and your dear partner over there."

"I see." Wendy kept her axe back inside her bag.

"I will have to take my leave now. Either you trust me or not, it's your choice." The shoes started to back away, and she couldn't help but to call out, "Will we meet again?"

"Find the Door, and you will see me again. Until then, Miss Wendy. I wish you good luck." A whoosh entered the air and she immediately knew he was gone.

Just then, Wolfgang woke up. "Is Miss Wendy alright?" he asked while rubbing his eyes.

She was about to answer him when a howl echoed all over the place. Smiling, she instead said, "We'll have to go now, Wolfgang. Adventure awaits for us."

They quickly packed their stuff and ventured ahead with torches held up high.


	7. Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the shriek that Wendy & Wolfgang heard? Well here's the story.
> 
> a.k.a Chapters 6 & 7 took place at the same time

Willow scanned around her surroundings while walking, which was as dark as the starless nights she had seen back in the real world. It was as if the world was plunged into eternal darkness with only the small fire from her lighter as her barrier against the Grue.

Already she began to regret her decision of cutting trees for her and Maxwell's camp.

"This is definitely a _bad_ idea," she told herself firmly. She almost could feel her sanity draining every minute, her mind was fighting against her will.

She held her right hand out blindly and kept her firm grip on her lighter in her left hand, trying to feel the leaves of the evergreens so she could burn at least one to make charcoal.

"Come _on_ ," she hissed in agitation. "Where are you, darned tree? I need you right now!" She knew the forest was somewhere near their camp, but in the darkness and time that passed by, the journey felt farther and longer.

Her hand then brushed against a rough texture and her eyes lit up in joy; she had found one!

Immediately she whipped her lighter and set the evergreen before her on fire. She exchanged the lighter with her axe and waited, the flames that danced from the fire soothed her and put her mind at ease.

Then the evergreen stopped burning and she suddenly found herself vulnerable to the night monster that lurked around.

"Not _now_!" she shrieked in horror and started swinging her axe around wildly, trying to pinpoint the burnt tree's position.

A sharp screech entered the air and now that she knew her death was coming, tears began to pour out of her eyes despite the fact she detested any form of liquid (apart from oil of course).

"Please Charlie, give me a moment," Willow cried out and sank onto the ground. She knew she had died before, but that was caused by hounds. To die in the hands of the darkness herself was painful. "Maxwell's waiting for me back at the camp. You remember him, did you?"

She closed her eyes, ready for the swipe that would bring her demise, thus reviving her again the next day with nothing to remember but the time that went by.

The hit didn't come.

She opened one of her eyes timidly and gasped.

She was in a rather large circle of light. But that wasn't what made her surprised.

In front of her was a man with wild raven hair that looked like flames. And he was gazing at her with full interest.

"My, Miss Willow, would you rather die than to meet your friend back?" he asked gently.

"N-no," she stuttered, wiping away the tears that pooled around her eyes hastily. She then turned around and saw the blasted burnt tree that almost costed her her life. Quickly she hacked it with her axe and picked the dropped charcoal, glaring at it in utmost fury before shoving it in her backpack.

"I...Thank you for saving me," she said with gratitude, glancing at the man.

"My pleasure," he replied with a bow. She couldn't help but to curtsy awkwardly in return, which earned her a friendly chortle from the gentleman. Feeling ridiculed, she bit her lower lip bitterly.

"Would you like to continue searching for woods?" he asked with such politeness that made her wonder if the person before her was a trick of her mind.

As much as she wanted to go back to her camp, her partner awaited for her return with the promised woods.

"I guess so," she finally gave in. "Besides, he expected me to bring back hauls of logs, not a piece of burnt wood."

"Then let's go ahead," the man spoke and began walking. Willow noticed the circle of light was actually around him. Not wanting for Charlie to strike again, she followed him closely from behind.

(line break)

Willow continued to chop trees with the gentleman ensured her safety. Even when her axe broke, she simply fashioned a new one and went on.

She wondered what to make of the man behind her. Surely he could be a new addition to their camp. And his strange light was certainly more than helpful.

"So..." she began, picking the logs that littered the ground, "who are you?"

"Simply one of the poor souls that got stuck here," was the answer.

"You're some sort of ghost, then?" she queried, directing at the faint light that emitted from him.

"You could say that."

"Sorry," she apologized and readied her axe to chop a large evergreen. "How did you die?"

"The King made me."

Willow dropped her axe in shock.

"The King?" She repeated in disbelief and turned to him. "H-he forced you to... _kill_ yourself?"

"Indeed he do," the man said, if a bit, sadly. "You might want to stop now, Miss Willow." He suddenly changed the course of the conversation.

"Why should I?" Seething with anger, she asked. "He _killed_ you! I will make him pay when I meet him soon! I will destroy this imaginative world he had built with my bare hands! Starting with this tree!" She picked up the axe.

"Miss Willow, don't-!"

She swung her axe at the evergreen.

A loud creak was heard and Willow's eyes widened in horror as she watched the tree before her stood at least five times her height.

It was staring at her with such hatred and she gulped in fright.

"What are you waiting for? _Run!_ " Willow snapped to reality when the man dragged her away from the living tree, which had just swiped its sharp wooden claws at her.

"Wh-what was _that_?" Terrified, she questioned as they ran. She could hear the footsteps of the living tree following them.

"That's a Treeguard. You've chopped too many trees there. It's best for you to stay away from that forest for a while," the gentleman explained.

They went on running until they found a spot that was deemed safe from the Treeguard and settled down, gasping for breath.

"We're almost close to my camp," Willow informed while checking her map, panting. "Thank you again, for whatever you did. How can I repay you?"

"You really want to?" the man asked curiously.

"Yes. A Girl Scout must honor the one who's being kind to one another," she said, almost saluting but caught herself in time and turned away from him, blushing.

What she didn't notice was the man's mouth curled into a sinister grin.

"Here's what you can do for me, Miss Willow," he began, gaining the firestarter's attention. "Number one: Tell no one about this little meeting of ours, you got that?"

Willow nodded in agreement, despite her will was screaming to tell Maxwell about him.

"Number two, keep in tab of your old friend Maxwell back in your camp."

Again, she agreed; though she frowned slightly at the word 'old'.

"And last but not least, tell Maxwell we send regards to him."

"From who?" She blurted out the question innocently.

"From Charlie, and the King."

Willow's heart sank to her stomach as truth dawned into her.


	8. Companions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I'm so in writing mode right now. XD

Maxwell threw three bundles of cut grass into the fire pit before him with a grim look. The logs were long gone into the fire, and even then there were not much of them to begin with. He kept resisting himself from grabbing his hammer and smashed the numerous chests that surrounded the camp.

 _It's been almost a day since she's gone,_ he thought, absent-mindedly gazing at the dancing flames. Glancing at the bowl of meatballs beside him, his brows furrowed. He wondered what had happened to his partner, Willow.

He saw great potential in her, despite being a pyromaniac. Her almost brash attitude was a nice change to the Constant's grueling challenges, and he couldn't ask more than simply hoping she would make it back to their camp, safe and sound.

He sighed and closed his eyes, trying hard to ignore the whispers that echoed around him. Apparently his dapper nature wasn't enough to protect him against them. The voices hissed horrible thoughts into his mind, much more than usual.

The magician grimaced at one particular memory that swam into his thoughts.

 _So this is how we're going to play, eh?_ he mused before chuckling in amusement. _I gotta admit, you have quite a streak going on. Not sure if we're the only ones who got trapped here, all caused by our mistakes. Still, you are much nicer than me; you gave me a companion when I gave you none_.

_I guess your gentleman side is still there, then._

Opening his eyes, Maxwell then bit his lower lip before adding another bundle of grass to the fire pit. He briefly saw a faint circle of light from the corner of his eyes, but dismissed it as an illusion.

That was, until dark shapes suddenly covered his sight and he started thrashing around, trying to pull off whatever that attacked him.

"Get...off me!" he shouted, his right hand groped for the Dark Sword he kept in his pocket.

Finally got hold of the shadowy weapon, he then blindly swung it around, wincing as his head twitched in pain. The bonds around his eyes were released when he heard a sickening slash, and he rubbed his eyes before looking at the sight before him in horror.

Willow was standing in front of him, blood pouring out of the wounds at her arms and head.

"Is this the thanks I got?" she asked innocently, her hollow eyes were gazing at him. At her feet were bundles of logs, some of them got splattered with the red liquid from her injury.

"N-no," Maxwell whimpered, stepping away from his partner. He dropped the Dark Sword, but the deed was done. The blood glistered on its blade, illuminated by the fire.

"I thought we are going to make through this together," Willow continued and marched toward him, raising her bleeding hands. The man backed away further upon her advance. "But it looks like we're better off alone in this world."

The magician's eyes widened in terror when she let out a screech and-

" _William!_ "

Stunned, he turned around and saw Willow beside him, holding her lighter. And was not caked with her own blood.

"What are you doing in the dark?!" she almost screamed. "You said it yourself to stay close to the fire!"

"Huh?" He lifted his gaze from her and noticed that he in fact, had stepped out of the radius of the fire pit.

"I...I thought I heard something," he started, twiddling his fingers. He felt as if he was a child again, being caught red-handed by his own mistake. "So naturally, I went to investigate.

"I guess I wasn't being careful enough," he finished with a gulp.

Willow breathed heavily before giving him a weak smile. "All is forgiven," she said, which surprised him. "Look, I got tons of logs here, so let's go back to the fire pit and relax, OK?"

"S-sure," Maxwell replied, huddling close to her as they walked toward the fire pit, in which the flames in it began to diminish.

"Oh!" he said upon arriving and took the bowl of meatballs. "I re-heat this; you must be tired after all those works." He offered it to her.

"Thanks, Maxwell. I really am starving right now," the woman responded and sat across the fire pit before savoring the meal served.

"What's with the Dark Sword?" she asked while munching, pointing at the mentioned weapon.

"N-nothing," Maxwell replied with slight hesitation, glancing at his sword. "Just put it there so I can get into action easily."

"Better keep it back; we don't want it to be stolen."

"Of course."

They sat in silence, with the occasional addition of newly-acquired logs into the fire to keep it going.

"Thank you for keeping this fire alive, Maxwell," spoke Willow, smiling.

"You're most welcome," came the reply.

"When will we see daylight again?"

Both of them knew it wasn't going to come anytime soon.

"I'm not sure," Maxwell finally stated. "But based on my calculation, tomorrow will be full moon." _Even_ he _had to obey Their orders, not the other way round,_ he thought.

"Full moon is _way better_ than right now," Willow said and he silently agreed. It was in fact, the only comfort he had when he was the King back then.

"Why don't we get some rest?" he suggested. "We had a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're right. But at least let me attend the fire for a while," the firestarter sweet-talked and he couldn't help but to smile.

"You deserve it after all," Maxwell said and retreated to his tent.

He let out a relieved sigh upon entering; looks like the whole incident was just his mind turning against him. Still, he didn't trust himself to hold the Dark Sword again at the moment.

He crawled into his beefalo wool blanket and was about to snuggle when he felt something small under him. Frowning, he pulled out the item and dropped it at first sight in shock.

It was a pair of round glasses. But he knew better.

It was _his own pair of glasses_ , long forgotten in the sands of time.

Shaking, he picked it up. It had been a long time since he saw it, and it by itself was a relic.

On its frames was a rough, small paper he knew made of papyrus. He took it and squinted his eyes as he tried to read the sentences written on it:

_Thank you for the compliment. Here's your reward. Use it well._

He didn't have to guess the person who sent him the glasses.


	9. Full Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Charlie gets to be human again each full moon. Poor girl deserves a moment of peace. (Only in this story for the plot's sake. And a certain King was involved on why.)
> 
> Also introducing the Lumberjack.
> 
> P.S - It's been a month since I first wrote this story!! Thank you very much for the kudos and reviews!!!

_"Will you be OK?"_

"Hush, hush; I'll be perfectly fine after this ordeal."

_"Be safe; I'll be waiting for you here."_

"See you later, Lucy."

(line break)

The Grue, or Charlie watched as the Constant slowly came into view when the moonlight bathed the world. She trembled; she had always feared the light from the moon ever since she was turned into the night monster.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her head and she began to feel her body was sizzling.

_What's happening to me?_ she cried out silently, holding her head; the pain was too much for her to bear.

Noticing the bright light was advancing, she fled to the only place she could go whenever it was full moon; the Throne Room.

(line break)

On the ninth day of their survival, Maxwell and Willow emptied the contents of their pockets and backpacks, placing them in the newly-built chests around their camp and only brought essential items like food and flints to make tools.

They shared a nod before heading to do their task; Willow will be gathering more woods (despite the fact she had just gone the day before) and Maxwell will search for food.

The man hesitated a bit when he pulled out the Dark Sword as his weapon. Still traumatized with last night's incident, he instead gripped his spear tightly in his hands as he headed for a berry bush. He knew the Gobblers were hiding in the bushes; he just had to find the right one.

_"Listen, we have to make our best on these two nights."_ The conversation he had earlier with his partner echoed in his head.

_"We need to catch fireflies to make the miner hats. That way, we'll get our hands free."_

He supposed it wouldn't hurt to find the glowing insects while gathering food.

Shaking his head, he picked clean the berry bush and almost had a heart attack when the darned bird clucked and ran away from him.

_Later though,_ he thought, munching on the berries. He grimaced slightly; the sour taste in his mouth and his disdain toward said fruit certainly didn't do much to satiate his hunger.

He began chasing after the Gobbler with his war cry, "To arms!"

(line break)

Charlie arrived at the Throne Room in record time.

Gasping for breath, her body shook heavily as she tried to stand up. She was almost blinded, and it took her a while to focus the sight before her.

Her hands. She blinked hard at them, not believing they were human hands as she flipped them over.

_I...I'm human again!_ Charlie thought joyfully, tears filled the brims of her eyes. She hugged herself and twirled around in excitement; she was free from being the monster that terrorized during night!

Then she stopped, remembering why she had come to the Throne Room and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand.

She began her usual trip to the end of the room, carelessly touched the stone pillars that lit the way for her even though the moonlight was bright enough to do so.

The usual ragtime tune that she will hear whenever she came was currently echoing inside the building, its cheerful beats accompanied her light steps.

But she knew better when she saw the person at the end of the room. The one who had the definite control of the Constant.

The King.

She was charmed by him at first sight, and was more than surprised to see him standing before her, bowing graciously.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," she spoke with a slight stammer when she stopped in front of the man, curtsying at him.

"The same goes for you, Miss Charlie," he said in return and stood up straight, giving him an impression of having the authority over the place.

"Should I put a stop to this horrible tune you kept listening to?" she asked politely. She started to get agitated with the grating music.

"Let it be," was the answer. Charlie almost gasped, stunned to hear it. Even the old King couldn't stand the blasted tune!

"If you say so, Your Majesty," she whispered, still in disbelief. She took notice of the badge pinned above the King's heart and frowned. "What's that badge for to you?" she asked.

"A token of my power," the King said with a wry smile, caressing the badge lightly. "Would you like to have a dance, Miss Charlie?" He bowed again and held out his right hand.

Charlie was speechless upon the gesture of the powerful man. "I would love to," she finally replied, placing her hand in his.

The gramophone suddenly stopped, startling the woman. She gazed at the King, who only gave her a knowing smile.

Then the music changed into one that she vaguely remembered listening back in the real world:

_Clair de Lune_ , the musical piece's name came into her thoughts and her mouth lifted into a wide grin. The King mirrored her action and before she knew it, they began to dance under the moonlight.

She wondered how the King could get up from the Nightmare Throne as they danced, but decided to brush the thought away.

The man slowly led her to the centre of the Throne Room, where a tall stone statue of a man stood proudly. Seeing it, Charlie's smile faded.

She unconsciously lessened her grip on the King's hand and touched the statue, a forlorn look appeared in her angelic face as she gazed up at the statue's visage.

"You missed him, did you?" she heard the King's question.

"I do," she whispered. "But it doesn't matter now; he got me into this hellish world and I was turned into a monster!" Her right hand suddenly changed into claws and she pulled it away in shock, eyes widened as it transformed back into her human hand.

"Would you like to see how he's doing right now?" the gentleman asked softly.

Charlie turned to him upon hearing the statement; she had watched the old King from afar when she was the Grue and silently admitted she wanted to talk to him again; her boss and lover.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," she said in defeat, a sigh escaped her mouth.

The King took her hand and led her to the Nightmare Throne, in which he conjured a red velvet armchair for her before sitting on the black regal seat.

She barely noticed that the man before her summoned a grey orb and beckoned her to stare at it. Reluctantly, she fixed her gaze at the crystal ball and unknowingly bit her lips at the visual shown by the orb.

An elderly-looking man was chasing some kind of turkey.

Charlie refrained herself from bursting into laughter (not to mention it was rude to do so in front of the King) and her face changed into a scowl instead when the man in the orb pulled out a black-covered book from his jacket.

Her grips at the armrests tightened at the sight of the tome.

The Codex Umbra.

The one that had brought her, and said man into the Constant.

She watched in utter disdain as the man read the book. Suddenly, a shadow figure appeared beside him and with their combined effort, they finally killed the bird.

"I assume the tome was your downfall, Miss Charlie," spoke the King, and it was not a question.

Charlie only nodded heavily before breaking into tears.

"I should have known better than to trust him!" she bellowed. "That book; I always got the feeling it was dangerous, but he didn't listen to me! Or rather, I didn't listen to myself!" She covered her face, sobbing.

The King did nothing to stop her from crying her heart out, and she was grateful for that.

Then, she felt a hand slowly brushed her hair with care. Stunned, she looked up with tears stained her visage.

"Do you want him to suffer again, Miss Charlie?" the King muttered, lifting his hand away from her hair. When she didn't answer him, he continued, "I could do that for you if you don't want to be involved directly."

"How?" she asked.

"Just give me your power. You won't have to be a monster anymore, Miss Charlie. You're not even one of Them to begin with," he reasoned.

Charlie fixed her eyes onto his, searching for truth in his words.

"Have we got a deal?"

She stared at the King's held-out hand.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably one of the harder chapters I've wrote for this story so far (apart from 'Rebirth')
> 
> Also, I got nothing better than Clair de Lune as the BGM for the chapter because duh.


	10. Tourist Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Tenth chapter for 'Fallen'! Thank you very much for all the views!

Wolfgang held his torch up high with his right hand, the other hand was in the little girl's grasp, who was leading him in the dark. He shivered because of the cold breeze brought by the night.

Occasionally, he would hear the baying of the hounds on their tail, waiting for the perfect time to attack.

"Wolfgang hears puppies, Miss Wendy," he spoke in worry. The eternal darkness that surrounded them didn't help his stature much either, what with his nyctophobia.

"I know," she replied wistfully. He had always liked her stony attitude, it assured him with some comfort. "Stay calm, dear friend. We're almost there."

"But you did not tell Wolfgang where we're heading to," he retorted. He had asked her when they first started their journey, but she simply told him to be quiet.

Suddenly, the whole world came into view and they looked up to the sky. It was full moon, so they snuffed out their torches and placed them in their bags.

"We are going to meet more friends, Wolfgang," said Wendy, answering his earlier question. "Though we should find some resources first."

"Wolfgang will help!" the strongman offered happily. "How far are we from them?"

"A bit more of walking will do," was the reply.

"Then let's go!" He then marched ahead, which earned him a smile from the blonde as she followed him from behind.

He hummed a little tune when a flicker of light suddenly caught his eyes and he stopped in his tracks.

"What's the matter, Wolfgang?" he heard Wendy's question.

"Look," he simply pointed.

For there was a white building stood majestically a few yards away from their current position. Its outline shone under the moonlight, making it impossible to dismiss it upon first sight.

"Do you think someone is in there?" the muscled man queried. "We should get help! Or maybe this is the place our new friends stay!"

He strode forward, only for his hand to be locked into Wendy's. Turning around, he saw her with a stern look shown on her usual pale face.

"We can't go in there," she stated vehemently. He blinked hard as if to process what she meant.

"It's dangerous."

Wolfgang gazed back at the building. It was as if there was an comforting aura around it, inviting him to come inside. But he had stayed in this world for quite long with his partner to know everything has their own intention.

"Wolfgang trusts Miss Wendy," he finally said, and Wendy let go of his hand.

"Thank you," she mumbled. "We will meet our new friends soon."

They walked toward north, with the man kept glancing at the building every now and then.

(line break)

Maxwell wiped the cold beads of sweat on his forehead. He had just finished skinned the Gobbler with the help of his shadow puppet, in which he acquired two drumsticks from the dead bird.

_Such shame for a quite plump animal,_ he thought. But food was food, so he kept the drumsticks into his backpack.

_It's rather chilly,_ he continued, hugging his body close. _Winter is coming sooner than I expected._

He set his eyes on the sleeping Beefalos that roamed the grasslands. Smiling, he pull out his razor and started shaving them for their wool.

_This will do_ , he mused as he collected the fluffy wools, pausing each time the beasts shifted around in their sleep. _Now they look dumb_ and _pathetic._

He shoved the Beefalo wools into his pockets when his sight was suddenly blacked out. Terrified, he immediately pulled out his Dark Sword without a second thought.

"Maxwell! It's me!"

He turned around and saw his partner, Willow, who was currently giving him a strange look.

"Sorry, pal," he started, keeping back his shadowy weapon. "J-just don't surprise me like that again, will you? You scared the wits out of me."

"Ooohh~" Willow's mouth broke into a wide smirk. "The Amazing Maxwell was scared by a mere surprise!" She began laughing.

Said magician felt himself getting ridiculed the more she howled.

"All jokes aside; I really am sorry for doing that," the woman apologized. "Are you done collecting food?"

"Just fine, I suppose. We will need the wools for winter, in which luckily I had done so," Maxwell flicked the razor in his hand, its blade glinted upon reflecting the moonlight.

"You should keep that away," said Willow warily. "Winter, you say?" She bit her lower lip. "I hate winter."

"I don't like it either; snow will ruin my suit," the man readjusted his red necktie as he spoke. "Damp is not dapper, after all."

Willow only rolled her eyes as her response.

"So who's this guy?" she started, directing at the shadow puppet. "Just a friendly fellow I conjured from my book here," said the magician, showing her the Codex Umbra.

"If you say so." The firestarter backed away from the tome; she had felt the intense dark energy surrounded it and was more than happy when he kept it back.

"Hey, what's that?" she suddenly asked, pointing at a direction. Maxwell followed her gaze with his eyes narrowed and spotted a bleary white structure far ahead. Frustrated at the hazy sight, he pulled out his glasses and put them on.

He heard his partner sputtered beside him. "What's the matter, pal?" he queried innocently.

"You look ridiculous in those!" Willow told him before breaking into laughter again. "Almost like a dork, in fact! Where did you get it?" She continued cackling with delight.

Maxwell waited for her to finish (it took her about five minutes to stop) when she finally heaved out, "I can't laugh anymore; I got a stitch on my side." She clutched her left side.

"That's for making a joke out of me, pal," he simply said.

"Well, take those glasses off, then. If you still put them on, I will laugh until every creature hears me, then it will be _your_ fault."

" _Please_ don't do that." With a sigh, the magician kept his pair of glasses in his breast pocket.

"Wanna check out what that is?" The firestarter jerked her thumb at the structure again.

"Why not? We have all the time in the world. It will be long before the moon is gone and we're all be sitting ducks." Maxwell took his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

As the magician led the way, Willow tailed him from behind, her mouth slowly lifted to a malicious grin.

_Not_ _ **we**_ _, Maxwell_ , she thought. _It will be only_ ** _you_**.

Her black irises briefly changed into red as the moonlight hit her eyes.


	11. Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the sudden halt in updates; I got hit by writer's block and just got my inspiration back recently.

Wendy scanned her surroundings in wary, trying to pinpoint the position of the vicious hounds that were coming to her, and her partner. In her hand was a red flower, floating in her palm.

"Wait for me, Abigail," she muttered, caressing one of its petals. She caught the sight of a rabbit hole and placed the flower next to it.

"Can you dig this hole for me, Wolfgang?" she asked the muscled man beside her.

"You calling your sister, Miss Wendy?" the man questioned in return. "Indeed I do; she's ready to play with us," said the Bereaved.

Wolfgang pulled out a shovel from his backpack while Wendy already had her axe in hand. "Maybe it's best if Wolfgang kill the bunny for you," he told her with the faintest hint of worry, the tip of the shovel already dug into the burrow slightly.

"It won't work that way, dear friend," Wendy explained. "If you say so," he said with a shrug and dug the rabbit hole in one try.

The horned rabbit scurried away as soon as its home was destroyed, but its life was swiftly ended in two swipes of Wendy's axe.

The red flower was bathed with the rabbit's blood, and seconds later, it disappeared with a ghost took its place.

"Hello, Abigail," Wendy greeted her deceased twin sister, who replied with a whisper. She picked up the dead rabbit and placed it in her backpack for food. "Do you want to play with us?" she continued, glancing at Wolfgang.

The muscled man was trembling from head to toe and she refrained herself from laughing at him. "Forgive me for not telling you, Wolfgang," she said instead. "This is my twin sister, Abigail."

The strongman blinked at the apparation before him. "It's...nice to meet you, Miss Abigail," he held out his shaky hand. He noted the ghost also sported a red flower like Wendy, the only difference was that the flower was at her left side.

Abigail let out a cheerful noise which he assumed as a reply. Hearing her, he smiled weakly, only to be interrupted by the howls that had chased them since two days ago.

"Wonder how many of them will come," Wendy murmured, gripping the axe in her hand. Seeing that, Wolfgang replaced the shovel with a hammer and slowly pounded it in his right palm, ready to fight the beasts.

Suddenly, Abigail wailed softly.

"What is it, Abby?" the blonde girl asked. "Someone's in danger?" she went on as her twin sister continued with a nod.

"Let's go toward west, Wolfgang. Someone needs us." With that, Wendy headed to said direction, followed by Abigail. The muscled man only sighed miserably before tailing the two.

(line break)

Maxwell only watched as his partner, Willow practically skipped ahead of him as they walked toward the white building that caught their eyes a while ago.

_Why do I feel this is a bad idea?_ he mused. He glanced at his shadow double, which he has conjured from the Codex Umbra. "What do you think about it?" he asked quietly.

The shadow puppet merely raised its shoulders as if to say, _"Oh, I don't know; what do_ you _think of it?"_

"Probably one of his playthings he had set up to torture us," the man stroked his pointed chin as he deduced his thoughts.

_"Then what's the problem? Just tell her she can go there by herself and let's continue doing our job."_

"But I don't want her to get caught in his hands. She could get killed, you know that, right? Besides, it won't hurt to investigate what that building was for."

_"You've made your own choice. If something bad happens, well let's just say your curiosity was the one that killed you."_

"Fine." Maxwell turned away from the shadow puppet grumpily, muttering something unintelligible when Willow's voice brought his attention and he looked up, mouth agape in amazement.

The structure was shining brightly under the moonlight and he had to squint his eyes from the glaring sight before him.

"It looks...ancient," was his first impression about the building. Several stone pillars of it had some markings embedded on them, though he took no notice about them.

"And pretty," Willow gushed with eyes lit up in joy.

"Even prettier than your fire?" Maxwell couldn't help to say it, eyebrows raised. His mouth almost broke into a mischievous grin but he stopped himself, knowing the woman had quite a punch.

"Not _fire_ pretty, although I do feel the same soothing aura fire always gives me," she retorted. She took a step into the building and gazed at him. "You're coming?" she asked.

The man turned to his clone, which only shrugged and folded its arms.

_"Go ahead, I will take care on what's happening out here."_

With that, Maxwell followed Willow into the mysterious structure.

(line break)

"Would you look at that!!" Willow exclaimed as she entered the only room of the building. "Maxwell, please don't tell me you've gathered too much food!!"

"And why was that?" Said man asked as he loitered into the room as well.

"Look around you!!" she ordered in elation.

Maxwell blinked hard at the sight before him.

Every meal he could think of was on the long table as he scanned around the room. He gulped, hungrily staring at the food. He noted that some of them were just placed recently, judging from the steam and the aromatic smell that flooded his senses.

_B-but this is_ insane, he thought. _Why would he do this? I'm such a jerk to him back when I was the King. Did he ever have any remorse on me?_

As if to answer him, a small piece of paper floated in front of him and he grabbed it, scanning the words written on it:

_Dig in._

"Oi, Maxwell!"

Willow's brash voice woke him up and he turned to her, absent-mindedly crumpling the paper in his right hand.

She was holding two plates, in which she placed them on the roundtable of the room. "I don't know what meal suits you, so I just picked a bit of everything and put them together!" she shouted.

"That's fine!" he called back before heading toward her and sat on a red armchair. He gazed up to see its design and briefly touched the fabric, wondering if he had known the seat before.

"Oh my, the food here is such luxury!" Willow spoke excitedly as she sank into the same seat opposite him and picked up the eating utensils. "I can't wait to dig in!"

"We might as well do it now, young Willow," Maxwell said, already taking a bite of the steak served. He watched as she muttered her prayers and followed suit, savoring the meal.

After what seemed like a good hour, they finished.

"That was such a good meal," the firestarter said, leaning against her seat. "Makes you wonder why the King's being generous all of sudden."

"As a form of gift, I suppose," Maxwell wiped his mouth with a napkin before continuing, "for surviving the endless two nights."

"Do you think it will happen again?"

"Probably."

They sat in silence for a few minutes when Willow got up from her armchair. "We better get going, Maxwell. The full moon isn't going to last long and we both know we've wasted too much time."

"Sure," the man said, only to be interrupted by his hands, which were budged to his seat. Stunned, he tried to lift them but to no avail.

"Willow, help me! I seem to get stuck to this chair!" he called out in panic. He felt invisible bonds wrapped around his limbs and shuddered; the memories of his time spent on the Nightmare Throne filled his mind.

Realization hit him like a train soon after.

_"Say pal, looks like you're having some trouble!"_

_Of course this is_ _a_ trap!! Maxwell lamented, his own words echoed around. _This seat; it was the one_ he sat on _back then!!_

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Maxwell."

Hearing that, he looked at his partner with widened eyes full of disbelief. She in return, gazed at him sympathetically.

Clenching his fists, he heard the rustle of the paper in his right hand and quickly flipped it over, in which the words on it confirmed him:

_For it will be your last_.

"Sweet dreams, William," Willow continued.

Maxwell only watched in horror as her eyes turned fully red with a twisted grin crossed her face. She lifted her right hand and snapped her fingers.

The whole room was plunged into darkness.

(line break)

Wendy arrived at the scene where the howls of the hounds were the loudest, only to be greeted by the sight of a woman fighting against the brutes with her spear.

"Abigail," she looked at her sister, who had just arrived, "help her."

The bereaved's deceased sister immediately turned red and glided toward the beasts that attacked the poor survivor. The hounds whined in pain as Abigail hurt them with invisible claws. Soon after, all of the hounds were killed, leaving behind purplish meats.

"Sorry!" Wendy heard a man's voice. She turned around and smiled weakly at her partner, Wolfgang. "You're late," she said.

"Wolfgang got sidetracked," the strongman admitted with a blush. "Someone needs help!" He quickly rushed to the survivor, who was lying on the ground.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He gazed at her items, one that could give him clues of whatever he can call her at the moment.

He spotted a small lighter with a flower on its metallic body, gripped tightly in her left hand.

"Fire lady!" he called out. "Do you need any help?"

"Th-thank you, wh...whoever you are," the stranger spoke, gasping weakly. "It seems that I will die again, though. By the same brutes that had seized my life once."

"Say no more, fire lady! Miss Wendy will fix you!" Panicked, he tried to reassure her.

"Life is nice when it lasted." With a giggle, she continued.

"She's not very well in mind, Wolfgang," said Wendy, who crouched next to him. "Stay still, miss. Close your eyes and you will be fine."

She let out a pasty-looking item from her backpack and sighed. _Death_ , she mused, _is inevitable. Too bad I can't let her to do so._

She briefly caught the whisper in her ears when she applied the healing salve to the stranger:

_"You did the right thing, Miss Wendy. And you've found your new partners."_


	12. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twelfth chapter! We're already halfway through!!
> 
> P.S - Today is RC: 9GN's 6th anniversary of its premiere, I should do something about that...

It was dark and cold. He wasn't sure what had happened after he was pulled into the darkness by his supposed partner back in the mysterious building they encountered.

_It doesn't matter anyway,_ he thought with a sigh. _I deserve a restart after all. Still, it would be nice to know what makes her to do so._

His inner monologue ended when he faintly heard a concerned voice, calling his name over and over again.

"Max? _Maxy! Open your eyes!_ " it said urgently.

Frowning at the word 'Maxy', he could not ignore the voice anymore. With a suppressed groan, he opened his eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust his sight.

In front of him was a bleary image of a person he thought he know from memory. Rubbing his eyes to get a better view, his jaw then dropped at the person before him.

It was _her._

_Charlie._

"I thought you won't be awake!" she said cheerfully and hugged him. Paralysed with shock, he only let her brush his thinning hair with her delicate fingers as she continued, "You make me so _worried_ back there; I almost thought it was too good to be true!!"

"Wh...what is it?" he managed to croak out.

"You know, meeting you again!!" Charlie's answer surprised him. _So she wasn't mad at me?_ _But she have the right to do so!!_

"I know what you're thinking, Maxy," said the woman and released him from her bear hug, giving him a chance to look upon her.

She was the Charlie he had always remembered before everything went downhill on their last performance; her bright eyes that were full of joy and curiosity, her short hair with the rose tucked above her right ear and the angelic smile that crossed her face...

"'How can we meet again?' is the question you have in mind, right?" Charlie asked, which brought him back to reality.

"I...yes," he spoke, still in disbelief that his assistant was there in human form, not the terrifying monster that attacked during the night.

"Well, you've got to thank the King for this!"

The sentence that came out of her mouth made his eyes bulge in utter surprise.

"Th-the _King?!_ " he gasped out.

"Indeed!" she continued, a bit too cheery in his opinion. "And, uh...I'm sorry for what happened back in the building; it was his idea after all!"

"Wait, so...you were Willow that was with me?" he queried.

"Yes; he insisted I am to dress up as your camp partner, making it easier to convince you to enter the beautiful structure he had built. And I'm also the bleeding Willow, so again, I apologize."

"No, it's alright, dear Charlie," he hastily said. "What was that building for?"

"It was the Dreamcatcher, as the King called it. And like its namesake, you will have good dreams when you enter it, especially regarding those you really want it to happen. Too bad it's only on full moon, though."

"What happened to Willow?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, Maxy; for we are in your dream. Surely you know that, right?"

There was a long silence with both of them fixed their eyes onto each other. Then, he broke it by averting her gaze, "Charlie?"

"Yes, Maxwell?"

He gulped uneasily before continuing, "I...I'm sorry. Forgive me for not being able to help you back when I was the King." Tears began to pool around his eyes and he hung his head down in shame.

"I am sorry for everything I've done to you, to us. If it wasn't because of me, we would still be in the real world, and you will not suffer as you are now. Everything that happened...is my fault.

"I hope you can forgive me, Charlie."

The woman in front of him watched sympathetically as he broke into tears, covering his face with his hands. Reaching out her hand to comfort him, she then stopped midway. She knew his apology was sincere, but she didn't feel like she will accept it well.

"I know you mean it, Maxy," she started, pulling her hand away. "But I can't accept your apology right now. Perhaps another time, maybe?"

"Of course. I don't expect you to forgive me right away; you have the right to not doing so. It is your decision, after all." Hearing his muffled voice, her mouth curled into a weak smile and she pulled out a white handkerchief from her dress before lowering Maxwell's hands.

The man was puffy-eyed, mainly caused by the sobbing of his misfortune.

"Enough talking about the past, Max," she said kindly, dabbing away the tears that stained his face with the cloth. "Let's talk about the present, shall we?"

"S-sure," he replied.

"How are you? Does the wilderness treat you well?"

"I'm doing fairly well, along with the help from Willow. She's quite a gal, if you ask me!" He guffawed heartily. "The one that tames fire, she will make a good performance back at home!" He spread out his arms and said with a wide grin, "Willow, the girl on fire!"

"Indeed she will, Max," Charlie unconsciously smiled as he continued his survival story with such energy. She however, couldn't ignore the envy that grew inside her the more he talked and realized, maybe he wasn't for her after all.

The face of the current King swam into her thoughts and she silently sighed; for the gentleman had captured her attention from the time he was ascended to replace the old King.

Who happened to be the man before her.

"So..how about you, Charlie? Is...your life alright?" The question from him woke her up and she stared into the man's black eyes.

"Apart from being the Grue, yes, I'm perfectly well, Maxy," she answered.

"But how come you're -"

"Human?" She finished his query. "The King...he somehow managed to coax Them to allow me being myself again. Just like the Dreamcatcher though; it's only on full moon.

"I'm afraid our time is up," she suddenly said.

"What?"

"The night's almost over, Max. Don't worry, you will be fine," she added when he began to panic. "Although you may come out not as sane as you were before entering."

"Does this take a chunk out of my sanity?"

"More than that."

"I thought you said this is a dream."

"Then again, not everything here is what it seems like, Maxwell. Surely you've learnt that lesson, didn't you?"

He could only watch in horror as her human figure slowly distorted into shadows and screamed when it swallowed him into the darkness.

(line break)

Wendy glanced upward as her muscular partner, Wolfgang carried the unconscious survivor they encountered after the hound wave. He had a grim look in his usual jolly face.

She then turned to her deceased twin sister, Abigail, who followed them from behind. The ghost noticed her and glided closer, letting out a soft whimper as if to say, _"What's wrong, Wendy? Is there something bothering you?"_

"Nothing, Abigail," the blonde girl said, lifting her gaze. "I was just thinking, that's all."

Her mind was playing the scene where her- _their_ parents took Abigail to the hospital after she got injured gravely. She remembered the time they spent in the waiting room for the news and their grief-stricken faces when the doctor told them she could not be saved...

"Miss Wendy!" Wolfgang's booming voice brought her back to reality and she gazed up. "Yes, Wolfgang?" she asked.

"Do you think this is fire lady's camp?"

She looked ahead and indeed, they had arrived at a rather modest camp. Chests littered the place and two tents were nearby the fire pit, in which she pulled some logs to start it up.

"Put her here, Wolfgang," she said instead, pointing at a position not too far from the fire pit. She then crafted a straw roll and lay it there before the strongman placed the survivor on it.

"Will fire lady be alright, Miss Wendy?" he asked.

"Don't worry, I still have some salve left. She will be fine by tomorrow. Get some sleep, dear friend." She made another straw roll and gave it to him.

"You're not going to sleep?"

"I'm afraid I will not at the moment."

As Wolfgang rolled in his straw roll, Wendy applied another round of salve onto the survivor's wounds before wrapping them using spider silks.

Just then, the light from the moon faded away and once again, the Constant was plunged into darkness.

She took notice of it and put the remaining grasses she had into the fire pit. Sighing, she stared absent-mindedly at the dancing flames that entranced her with Abigail joined her later on.

Then she heard a rustle from the berry bush she spotted earlier just before the moon set. Readying her axe, she almost swung it when the source finally showed up.

An elderly-looking man stumbled into the camp, looking shriveled and was muttering nonsense. She was rather surprised to see such a sharply-dressed man was also a survivor in this maddening world.

And he was _insane_ , from what she could decipher from his actions.

"Too bad I used the last of my grasses as fuel," she said nonchalantly, placing her axe aside before rummaging one of the nearby chests and found said material. "I hope you won't mind," she went on as she did the third straw roll.

She was just finished when the man suddenly fell onto the ground with a heavy thud near the fire pit. Rolling her eyes, she set the straw roll next to the man and pulled his sleeves so that he was on it.

Satisfied, Wendy went back to the fire pit and threw the grasses into it to keep the fire going. She then mumbled something not even Abigail could hear as her eyes fell onto the strange man:

"So close to death, yet so far."


	13. Introductions

It was dark, but pleasantly warm. She was not aware much on what had happened after she collapsed due to the injuries she had. The hounds that attacked her were more than she could deal with, and if it wasn't for the strange man who found her, she would die.

_Again._

She swore she will never let the King away from it, that's for sure.

Her ears caught the sound of fire crackling and she smiled. Fire was her friend, no matter what the circumstance was. She was content with the warmth radiated by it, and simply wished she could stay like that.

Then a thought sprang into her mind: _Who started up the fire?_

Her eyes snapped open, only to be greeted by a worried man with thick handlebar mustaches staring back at her.

"Aahhh!" She shrieked and backed away from said man. Her hands grazed on the hard ground but she took no notice. "Wh-who are _you?_ What do you want?"

"Relax, fire lady!" spoke the man. She noted he has quite a deep voice, though it suited his stocky-built body.

"Uh...Miss Wendy! Fire lady's awake!!" the man hollered and she frowned. _There's another one?!_

She turned aside and saw a blonde-haired girl coming toward them, a ghost hovered behind her. She shivered; she remembered seeing the spirits that were floating all over the graveyard, and sprinted away as soon as she saw them.

_So how come this girl got one?_ She mused as they (the girl and the ghost) arrived and sat nearby.

"You're awake," the child spoke airily. She shifted slightly and bit her lower lip; the girl somewhat have a creepy aura around her.

"Good to know you will live for another day," the blonde continued, "Wendy's the name; pleased to see you. This is Abigail, my sister-" she pointed at the ghost "-and here is Wolfgang."

The strongman pumped his muscles happily as Wendy introduced him. "Is nice to meet you, fire lady!" he said cheerfully.

She couldn't help but to return the man's smile. "W-Willow," she started. "Fire lady? That's...rather new."

"You don't like it?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"On the contrary; I love it! It suits me well!! I like fire _very much_ , if you want to know!!" She turned her gaze to the fire pit, her eyes lit up in joy.

Then she looked around her surroundings and her smile fell at once.

"Is the full moon already over?" she half-whispered.

"We brought you here just before it set," said Wendy, who was weaving flowers together. "The hounds surely did you quite a lot of damage."

Hearing that, Willow glanced over her arms and legs, which were wrapped with sticky substances. She lifted her hand to her neck and could barely feel the gap on her skin.

"I use spider webs as bandages; hope you won't mind," the girl continued.

"No, I'm surely not," she said, although she was actually repulsed on the idea of anything spidery was on her skin. "Thank you for saving me, all of you." She beamed to them, in which only Wolfgang returned it.

"Is my partner here?" she asked. "He was a man -"

"You mean him?" Wolfgang spoke, pointing behind her. She followed his gaze and noticed the man who shared the camp with her, currently sleeping on the straw roll.

"He was rather crazy, for lack of a better word, when he arrived," Wendy told her. "Mumbling about someone called 'Charlie', I think, before he passed out." In her hand was a flower crown, which she handed it to the strongman, who accepted the gift happily and put it on his head.

She grimaced at the mention of the name. "He acted strange on two days ago," she started. "Wandering in the dark even though he knows she brings his death, jeez. Good thing I managed to get to him before she strikes!"

"As in 'Charlie', I presume?" Wendy interrupted, causing her to jump. Abigail floated beside the child and moaned softly, but she took no notice and continued staring at her.

She only blinked hard at the blonde, wondering if she was right about her being straight up creepy.

"Your silence gives me answers," the girl went on before turning away with Abigail on her tail.

"Forgive Miss Wendy, fire lady," Wolfgang told her in concern. "She had always been like that; watching people closely."

"Observant, you mean?" she said. "How come you didn't call her with nicknames as you did me?"

"Wolfgang did call her 'creepy girl' when we first met!" the strongman added, "She said she didn't like it, so she told me to call her 'Wendy'. But she is very brave! She does not fear darkness! Wolfgang wants to be like her too, so I call her 'Miss', for I respect her!"

"She's such a strange child," she chided in, "but it works well, with you two doing pretty good! I myself had died once!" Then a bright thought came into her mind.

"Would you like to stay here with us?" she said suddenly, griping both of Wolfgang's shoulders. "This is our camp, after all! That is, Maxwell and I, of course." She turned to the sleeping man. "We can work together to survive this world!!"

"Sounds like good idea! Wolfgang will ask Miss Wendy first!" said the strongman with same excitement. He was about to shout for the girl when she clamped his mouth with her right hand.

"Let her be for a while," she told him. "How about I show you some stuff around here?"

(line break)

Wendy waited until both Wilow and Wolfgang went to the rows of chests that surrounded the camp before heading to the only man who was still unconscious.

She knelt beside him upon arriving, the faint light from Abigail illuminated the man's face a bit in addition of the flames from the fire pit.

"What does an old man doing here with us?" she asked no one. She gazed into the wrinkles that were over his visage and deduced he was probably not as old as his appearance did.

It can be deceiving, after all.

Suddenly, the man shifted around in his sleep and she backed away slightly. He was muttering something, so she leaned closer with caution to hear him.

"Ch-Charlie..."

"Y-you are...interesting, I'd say..."

"They... _They_ have destroyed me. And you will be too...sooner than I did..."

The man squirmed and fumbled around and Wendy barely had the time to retreat when he pulled out a black sword from his jacket.

She didn't even scream as it slashed deeply into her skin. Instead, she only stared at her bleeding form with a wide smile.

"Death has come to claim me after all."


	14. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the longest chapter I've written so far for this story.

"-and here is our Alchemy Machine!" spoke Willow to her new camp partner, Wolfgang, who was listening intently.

"Maxwell told me to catch some fireflies to make the miner hats," she continued, touching the machine's metallic body, "but I guess we're too late for that."

Both of them looked around, in which the world was fully covered with darkness, save for the fire that ignited brightly all over the camp.

"Maybe we can catch those glowy insects!" said Wolfgang after a moment of silence. "How about you hold your lighter, and Wolfgang will grab them?"

"Great idea, buddy!!" Willow slapped him playfully on the back and pulled out her trusty lighter, turning it on. "Let's tell Wendy we're going somewhere; otherwise she'll be worried."

The air suddenly filled with a sickening slash, causing both of them to fall silent.

"Wh-what happened?" the strongman asked frightfully.

"Could it be..." Willow didn't finish her sentence, her grin already faltered away. Instead, she rushed back to the fire pit, with him on her tail.

Their mouths hung open at the sight before them.

Wendy was gazing intently at her arms, her clothes were covered with blood flowing from the wounds on her skin. Abigail, the child's deceased twin sister was wholly red, but seemed to refrain from attacking the person who assaulted her sibling.

The man who was unconscious earlier had already woken up, and his expression had told them everything.

_"MAXWELL!"_ Willow cried out in anguish and went to the blonde girl.

"Are you alright, Wendy?" she asked frantically, trying hard to stay calm. She had learnt how to treat wounds during her time in the Girl Scouts, but the injuries the child had were more than she could handle.

She hated blood ever since she first grazed her knee. Now that her hands were stained with said liquid, she bit her lower lip in agitation.

"Wolfgang, fetch me some spider glands!" she ordered but was stopped by the girl herself.

"Do you have some ashes, Miss Willow?" she asked wistfully. When she didn't reply, she continued, "You can make healing salves with those. Mix them with the glands and rocks to make one."

Willow only stayed there, her mouth was slightly agape. "It's what I use to treat your wounds," Wendy added patiently.

"Of course," the woman finally managed to choke out. "We have some." She turned to Wolfgang, who nodded and went back to the rows of chests.

She then looked at her male partner, who was still in utmost shock with the whole incident.

"I..." he started in distraught.

"Save it for later, Maxwell," she interrupted with a glare and he fell silent.

After a while, Wolfgang reappeared with some pinkish goo and ashes in his hands, and she took them before going to the Alchemy Machine to make the healing salves.

As she worked, she faintly heard the strongman voiced his concern to his little companion, "Don't worry, Miss Wendy. Fire lady will fix you up!"

"Worry am I not, Wolfgang," Wendy airily said, "It was merely the chance of escaping death."

She could not help but to shiver upon hearing that sentence.

Some time later, she finished making the salves and forced out a weak smile as she headed back to the fire pit.

"I only managed to make two batches of salve," she admitted before applying the paste on Wendy's wounds.

The girl didn't even flinch in pain as she nursed her and wrapped the injuries with spider silks.

"Thank you," said Wendy when she was done. "You have quite skilful fingers."

"I was part of the Girl Scouts before," she mumbled out.

"Our debt is settled, then."

Willow was briefly stunned with the statement.

"Yeah," she finally whispered and looked over her injuries caused by the hounds, the memory of the girl saved her earlier was reeling in her mind. "I guess we're even now.

"How about you and Wolfgang live here with us, Wendy?" she ventured. "We have lots of items around; and maybe you can make use of them more than us."

The blonde fixed her eyes on her before glancing to her muscular partner for approval.

"We accept your invitation," she said finally.

"Good," Willow almost screamed in joy upon hearing it. "Now, can you stay with Maxwell for a while? We're going to find more ashes...and spider glands for you." She couldn't help shuddering at the mention of the arachnids.

She thought she saw a smile flickered on Wendy's face for a moment.

"You've done enough," the girl told her, "but please do. Wolfgang, you can have my torch."

The firestarter gave out a smile to her before turning to the strongman, who kept the given torch into his backpack, "Come, Wolfgang. Let's go when the night's still out."

They then ventured out of the camp with torches held up high, watched by the ones left there.

"I believe you have something to say, sir," spoke Wendy as the last glimpse of torches faded from their sight.

"I didn't mean to harm you, child," the man confessed. His voice alone had made it crystal clear for it to be genuine.

"Of course you don't. This place does quite a toll on us. And you got it worse than us, for what it seems."

"Not really, pal; I was just being careless. Maxwell's the name, by the way." He held out his hand, but she only stared at it with raised eyebrows.

The man tsked before adding in annoyance, "Fine. It's William, but don't call me that. Deal?"

"Deal." Only then did they shake hands. A familiar aura suddenly crept into her but she dismissed it as a mere instinct. "Wendy, and here is Abigail, my twin."

The ghost was still flushing in red, causing him to scurry away slightly when it glided near him.

"Don't hurt him, Abigail. Everything was a misunderstanding," the blonde explained and Abigail frowned before turning white, a soft moan echoed over the camp. Smiling, she said to Maxwell, "She still didn't trust you, I'm afraid."

"She has the right to do so," the lanky man muttered, averting her gaze.

Then a low groan filled the air and all of them tensed up.

"I know that noise..." Maxwell hissed and unconsciously grab hold of his Dark Sword, wincing at the sight of blood on its shadowy blade. "Forgive me, young Wendy," he said and wiped the stain with a handkerchief.

Wendy didn't answer him. Instead, she watched in fascination as a huge walking living tree stepped into the camp, glaring at them with utmost fury.

"Now this is interesting."

(line break)

Wolfgang hummed as he traversed the forest with his new partner, Willow. He did so to ease his heart, which was currently hammering hard in his chest.

"You OK there, Wolfgang?" the woman asked, the fire from her lighter illuminated her face a bit.

"Wolfgang doesn't like darkness," he confessed, which earned him a weak smile from her.

"I don't like it either," she said, trying to comfort him. "Try thinking about Wendy. She isn't afraid of the dark, right?"

"Miss Wendy is very brave!" he called out, "and Wolfgang wants to be like her!"

"That's the spirit!" Willow exclaimed happily. "Now let's find some spiders; we need new silks and glands after all."

They walked ahead for quite a while when a flicker of light caught the strongman's eyes. "Wolfgang sees something," he spoke.

Then he stumbled hard on the ground.

"Wolfgang! Are you alright?" Willow went to his side the moment she heard him. The light from his torch showed his lightly grazed knee.

"Looks like this fellow caught your leg," she continued, revealing the item that he tripped over, which was a piece of log. "But I don't remember chopping trees around here..."

They raised their torch and lighter and were stunned to see so many cut woods littered the forest.

"What do you think, Wolfgang?" Willow broke the silence, placing the log back on the ground.

"Must be huge monster!" said man gave his thoughts. "But what is it?"

"Let's explore this place for a bit," the firestarter suggested and he agreed.

They continues their journey in the forest, searching for possible clues on whatever lurked around. What they found were only more chopped trees and the occasional grasses and saplings being uprooted from the ground.

"It appears our monster only attacks trees, but why? I know Treeguards protect them..." Willow deduced, remembering her encounter with one of the forest guardians. Her legs brushed against a fuzzy surface and she looked down.

A spider was at her feet, twitching in pain since its body was severely gnawed open. Without any hesitance, she stomped hard on it, causing it to screech before finally, it died.

"Good riddance," she muttered in disdain, already feeling sick with the sight. She picked up the pinkish goo it left behind and shoved it in her backpack.

"Look!" Wolfgang suddenly shouted, his forefinger was pointing ahead. She followed his gaze and spotted a rather dim light.

They looked at each other before nodding and went to the light source.

A snap echoed all over the place as they edged closer and both gulped in fear before a soft voice rang, singing:

_"Nighty night dear one, for the world is a dream; and the dream is your true place..."_

Stunned to hear it, they shared glances and barged into the camp.

There was only the fire and a Science Machine inside the camp, making both of them to wonder if the voice was only figment of their imaginations.

"Oi! Have you got any manners?!" a rough voice suddenly spoke, almost scaring them out of their wits.

"W-we're sorry!" said Willow on her and Wolfgang's behalf and turned to her partner, who was shivering from head to toe behind her. "We saw a fire around here and thought some exploring should be done."

"Why don't you say so?" the voice continued with a guffaw and they watched as the speaker slowly stood before them.

It was a rather muscled man with brownish red hair. His matted beard covered his face slightly and a red-bladed axe was in his hand.

"Pardon me for scaring you," he started, "It's been so long since I saw another human! Woodie, plain ol' lumberjack here."

"Willow," said the firestarter, "and Wolfgang. May we have a seat?"

"Certainly," Woodie replied with a wave of his hand and they sat around the campfire.

"Say, do you know what happened here?" she began, huddling close to the fire.

"What'd ya mean?" the woodsman said gruffly and pulled out a cloth from his pockets before wiping the blade of his axe.

"We saw lots of trees got destroyed around the forest."

Woodie paused for a while as she said it.

"Nope," he finally spoke and continued his work, "never been around for the last two days. Or was it three?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We're all doomed in this place, for all we know."

Silence came over soon after.

"That's a pretty axe," Willow pointed to said tool in Woodie's hand.

"It is," he said with a smile. "Lucy's the name. I love Lucy!" He hugged the axe close to his face and she had to stop herself from gushing at the sight.

"I have something too," she told instead and pulled out her lighter. "Do you have anything that was yours when you got here, Wolfgang?"

"Wolfgang needs nothing!" the strongman spoke and pumped out his mighty arms, "Muscles are all Wolfgang need!"

"We all have something that was ours back home," Woodie chided in. "Wonder why was that."

"The King, perhaps?" Willow said innocently and both men turned to her at once. "Who?" asked the lumberjack curiously.

"The King," she repeated, "he was the one who trapped us here. We are all part of his game, which includes death."

"And gets crazy, too," said Wolfgang, chewing on a cooked blue mushroom. "The mushy-rooms are very good! Miss Wendy told Wolfgang to eat the green and blue ones!"

"What about the red mushrooms?" the woman asked. "Red is not good," he simply said, "Miss Wendy says it means danger."

"Could I have some of those?" Woodie queried hesitantly, his eyes darted back and forth every now and then. "I'm not feeling very well in mind at the moment."

"Cook them first, wood man," the strongman advised and gave the mushrooms he had to Woodie, who accepted it gratefully and roasted them over the fire with some twigs.

"Thanks, buddy," the woodsman said as he munched a cooked green version of the fungus. "That feels better." He ate another one.

"You don't make a fire pit, Woodie?" Willow asked, adding one of her logs to the fire.

"No, always like the smell of ash. Besides, it's handy," was the answer. "You said there are more people here?"

"There are two back in our camp," the firestarter explained, "would you want to come with us? We have plenty of space there."

"Sure," Woodie said joyfully and stood up, grabbing his backpack and held Lucy tightly. "Shall we go now?"

As soon as he finished his sentence, the darkness suddenly faded away and they watched with a wide grin as the world slowly came into view again.

"Yes."

(line break)

The three of them chatted about their life stories while walking back to Willow's camp, sometimes a chorus of laughter filled the air.

"-and I accidentally started a fire, causing the teacher forget about my misbehaviors and ran out of the room!" Willow finished hers with a cackle.

Both men shared glances before chiming in her joy, albeit warily in doing so.

"We have reached camp!" Wolfgang announced and they quickened their pace upon hearing him.

A bright pastel of colour greeted them when they arrived, followed by a white blur.

"How was your night, Wendy?" Willow asked, carelessly ran her hand over the girl's blonde hair. "Is Maxwell treating you well?"

Just then, said man appeared beside her, a huge smile plastered over his gaunt face.

"Oh, we have quite a magnificent night-out," he spoke.

Willow, Wolfgang and Woodie turned to each other in puzzlement as the man and the child exchanged knowing grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woodie's singing means nothing; just a little thought I have in mind.


	15. The Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15th chapter is up!! Man, I'm so in writing mode right now~ XD

It was now the thirteenth day of survival for the survivors in the grueling world known as the Constant, and currently, they were having a discussion in the ever-growing camp of Willow and Maxwell's.

"Thanks to the King, we had little time to prepare for winter!" the firestarter yelled in frustration. "We only got about three days or so before it comes!"

"Then again, we already got our logs stocked well for the season," spoke Maxwell, who was twiddling a razor around in his hand, "those cut trees in the forest that you told us will definitely help us."

"But we have to haul those logs here. I will be hunched way before my time," she moaned. "So many things to be done..."

"Nah, let me do that," said Woodie, the newcomer of the camp. "That's the least I can do to repay you for allowing me to stay here."

Even though he had just been there for not even a day, the rest of the group already treated him like a family member. _It was quite nice_ , he thought.

"Really?" Willow asked, genuinely surprised with the offer.

"Yeah. Just give the tree-cutting chore to me. I am a lumberjack, after all."

"Alright, our log problem is solved. Who wants to hunt?"

"Wolfgang wants hunting!" the strongman shouted with hands raised. "Wooly beasts will stand no chance against me!"

As if on cue, one of the Beefalos roamed in the grasslands near them hummed loudly, causing all of them to laugh. Maxwell however, only smirked while Wendy, the sole child in the camp showed no emotion.

"Abigail will happily help you, Wolfgang, if that's alright with you?" the girl joined the conversation.

"Of course! We will bring down beasts together!" Abigail, Wendy's ghostly twin sister wailed cheerfully when he said it.

"I want to gather stuff, if you won't mind," Wendy said.

"S-sure," Willow replied and they only watched as the blonde reached for her backpack and left with an axe in hand.

"I will go with her," Maxwell hastily added, grabbing his bag and followed suit.

There was a long silence after two of them headed out, which was soon broken by the woman, "Well, I will be mapping new places we haven't explored yet. Maybe we will get new resources."

(line break)

"I take that back," said Willow.

She had re-entered the forest where she and Wolfgang went the day before. The enclosed space caused by the evergreens looming over her made her heart tighten in unease.

"Could you at least show me a path on wherever I'm heading to?" she asked impatiently to no one in particular. "A lost survivor would do you no good, am I right?"

She chuckled when suddenly, her eyes spotted a worn trail ahead of her. Stunned with the sight, she looked around back and forth before gulping in fright, and followed the path.

Her heart was beating fast as she walked along the trail, puzzled with the incident. _Did he actually hear me?_ she wondered. _Great, I'm_ so _screwed up._

Her monologue was stopped when she arrived at a cluster of trees, which arranged so near to each other that they could easily catch fire. Brushing the leaves away, she then gaped in horror at the monstrous machine in front of her.

Thinking about nothing else, she turned back around with shaking knees before sprinting away.

(line break)

"Uh, guys?" spoke Willow upon arriving at the camp she had shared with other survivors, in which the camp had grown more spacious and rather crowded. However, the place was now so quiet that she feared if something had happened to her camp partners during her absence.

"Yeah?" said Woodie, who was currently wiping the blade of his red axe, Lucy.

Willow almost let out a relieved sigh when she heard him and scanned around the camp. He was nearby the fire pit, so she went there and sat beside him.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Finding food, I think. We are told not to _starve_ , as a matter of fact. You came back quite early; what brings you to?"

"I found something in the forest," she started. "It looks...almost like a door."

"Continue," the woodsman urged and flipped Lucy over. "What's it look like?"

"The door, you mean? It seems like a person's face."

"That's quite new. Is it far?"

"Not too far; in fact it was just a bit further from your old camp."

Woodie looked over his axe a few times before placing it at his belt. "Let's wait for the rest first. In the meantime, I'll be cutting more trees, so it's your turn to watch over," he casually said before leaving.

Willow held her frustration as the lumberjack prepared his backpack and left with Lucy in his hand.

"He surely was different back then," she muttered out, remembering when she and Wolfgang first met him. "Perhaps he's just a solitary type of person."

With that, she turned to the fire pit and started it up, despite it was still sunny. She then sat and gazed deeply into the flickering flames, absent-mindedly rummaging inside her backpack when her hand brushed against a rough texture and pulled out the item.

It was a piece of charcoal. But she knew better, fragments from the first round of endless nights flashed in her mind.

She lightly traced the charcoal with her fingers and sighed. She hadn't seen the gentlemanly ghost ever since and wondered if he was still around in the Constant.

It wasn't long before she fell asleep, lulled by the warmth the fire brought with the charcoal held protectively in her hands.

(line break)

Wendy was the first to return from her task. Her pockets and backpack were filled with resources. On her head was a flower crown, which was almost identical to the one she gave Wolfgang yesterday.

She snorted heavily; she didn't expect to find herself get indulged into prettiness. But she was content with the pleasant smell the garland gave out, so she let it be.

She noticed Willow's slumbering form beside the fire pit and settled next to her. The sight of the charcoal in the firestarter's hand caught her eyes and she wondered why the woman would hold such fragile item.

Just then, the woman woke up. "Oh, hello Wendy," she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes. She then yawned and stretched her arms around. "Where's Maxwell?"

"He's coming," the bereaved simply said and went to the rows of wooden chests that were placed in the camp before putting the items she had gathered inside an empty one.

Soon enough, the magician stepped into the camp, followed by Wolfgang and Abigail, and later, Woodie. During dinner, Willow told them about the doorway she found, and the group agreed to see it.

The next day, all of them headed to the strange contraption, lots of questions filled their mind.

"Could it be a portal to another world? As in, _our world?_ " Willow whispered to Maxwell as they walked. Both of them were at the last; the group was headed by Wolfgang and Woodie.

"Doubt that," the man replied curtly in the same level of voice, "He wouldn't make it that easy." To be honest, he wasn't happy when he heard the news.

Like, at all. In fact, his heart was racing with full fear in his chest.

"We have arrived!" Wolfgang announced.

Once again, Willow's knees buckled in terror as they stood in front of the machine, which rose higher when they approached it.

"Did you hear that?" spoke Wendy, signaling them to be quiet. They then stayed still, only to hear a faint musical number from inside the structure.

"Sounds quite cheerful, that music," Woodie gave his thoughts, stroking his beard. "Wonder why was that?"

"The only way to know, is to enter it," said Willow. She turned to her group, who nodded in agreement before glancing at Maxwell.

The magician had his lips tightened in misery when she fixed her eyes on him and slowly, he nodded as well.

She pulled the lever beside the machine.

Immediately, black limbs sprouted from the ground around the contraption, and she shrieked in horror, shocked to be taken surprise.

As she watched the others writhed in the shadowy bonds, unknown voices began to garble in her mind, the words were strangely distorted.

_"Welcome,"_ was the only word she could decipher before everything went black.

(line break)

A soft whoosh of wind blew across the Constant, making the evergreens to sway slightly. From the shades of said trees, a human slowly emerged out, staring at the sight before him with a sad smile.

Oh, how delighted was he when he knew the ragtag group of survivors had entered the wooden structure, unaware of the dangers lurked around for them.

He stopped as he noticed a piece of burnt wood was at his feet and he picked it up, his smile grew wider.

He twiddled the charcoal for a while when it suddenly burst into flames in his hand and he continued to watch, mesmerized as it turned into ashes before blown away by the wind.

"We will meet again soon enough, all of you."

The figure then vanished as soon as the darkness came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And thus, bringing us to the end of the Survival Arc of 'Fallen'! Thank you very much for sticking around, and stay tuned for the Adventure Arc!!
> 
> For the record, Willow was the character I use when I first found Maxwell's Door, so I think it fits well into this story.


	16. A Cold Reception: Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The Adventure Arc begins...NOW!!
> 
> P.S: I will make each Adventure chapter in two parts, and there will be a surprise at the end of every chapter!

Her body ached after she was dragged into nothingness along with her group. She didn't know much, but she knew the shadows that pulled them into the monstrous machine they had found earlier was the cause of her action of pulling the contraption's lever, driven by her curiosity.

She suddenly felt guilty for putting all of her team into the mess, and firmly decided to apologize as her first move.

Now, if only she woke up from her slumber...

Then her ears caught the sound of fire, crackling merrily as if it was a giant bonfire.

From the fire beside her, she faintly heard a voice, which sounded happy as it spoke:

"Greetings. It seems to me you have found the Door. At any rate, you may get soaked by your will to venture."

She silently frowned; the voice seemed familiar to her but she could not place a finger on where, and when she had heard it before.

"Find the pieces, and we will meet again if you succeed," the phantom continued.

"May luck be with you always."

A whoosh entered the air, and only then she found the strength to open her eyes. A gasp escaped her mouth and she held her head, which was pounding hard. From her bleary vision, she could see the rest of her group began to rise up as well.

"Wh-what _happened?_ " asked Woodie the woodsman, massaging the back of his head.

"We've gone through the bends of time and space," spoke Maxwell, dusting away the dirt on his three-piece suit and stood up. "We are now in the first world full of challenges."

"What does that mean?" the strongest of them all, Wolfgang asked with a frown.

"It appears to me, the machine we encountered earlier was a gateway," explained Wendy, who adjusted the flower tucked above her right ear. When nobody interrupted, she continued:

"I think we can finally meet the King again."

Everyone bar Maxwell gasped at once, who merely gulped uneasily upon hearing that statement.

"Th-the _King?_ " they said in unison and turned to each other with apparent worry.

"Yes," Maxwell cut in with a sour face. "We're now in the first world. There are five in total, before we can reach the King's place."

A long, awkward silence entered the air; the survivors' face were solemn. She turned to the fire, which was now burning dimly before dying, leaving behind a small pile of ash. She scooped it up before putting it in her pocket for future use.

Woodie then tsked impatiently before getting up, hands at his hips, "Well, we'd better get started, eh? Don't wanna get unguarded, right?"

He fumbled against his belt and pulled out his trusty red axe, Lucy. His eyes widened as he touched the insides of his pockets. "Where are all of my stuff?!" he called out in panic.

Hearing that, she quickly rummaged her skirt's pocket and fished out a fist-sized lighter. "This is all I have," she uttered in slight disbelief, realization hit her like a bullet in her head.

Everything they had in hand before entering the Door, was gone.

"Wolfgang has nothing!" the strongman shrieked but was soon calmed down by Wendy, "You have your mighty muscles back, dear friend."

The stocky-built man let out a relieved sigh as she said it.

"Abigail is resting at the moment," the child went on as she examined a red flower in her palm. She then turned to Maxwell, which was then followed by the rest of the group.

The magician raised his hands in defence as they fixed their eyes on him.

"Well..." he started, pulling the collar of his shirt nervously before sighing in defeat and emptied his pockets.

There was a Dark Sword, a Night Armour, four sticky, black blobs, a purple gem, and finally, the Codex Umbra.

"Those are nightmare fuels," he explained with gritted teeth as she picked up one of the black substances and turned it over.

"How come do you get more items than us?" Woodie asked the very question she had in mind, his brows furrowed in suspicion.

"It's the King's decision; he was the one who controlled this place, not me," the tall man said vehemently, taking back the items with a swift move and headed out in fast strides. He stopped only to grab an axe which was lying on the ground before continuing.

"Well, I didn't see that coming," said the woodsman with a slight shrug. "Come Luce; let's chop some trees!" He then walked toward a large evergreen with Lucy gripped tightly in his hands.

"Wolfgang will find food!" the strongman called and beelined to the land of meadows ahead of them, leaving only her and Wendy.

"I will gather some resources," the blonde said. However, something caught her eyes and she went toward it, filled with curiosity.

"Wendy? Where are you going? Wendy, wait for me!" she shouted, tailing behind the child and soon stopped next to her, frowning at the sight before them.

It was a Science Machine, its center was turning as if to emphasize its function. Beside the contraption was a strange-looking rod with a radio on top of it, standing in some sort of holder.

_That looks useful,_ she thought and picked up the rod. Immediately a low hum erupted from the radio, and she looked to Wendy for explanation.

The child simply shrugged as her answer.

"We will ask Maxwell about this thing," she concluded, scratching her head and placed the rod aside. "Still, what does a Science Machine doing here? Isn't a human supposed to build it?"

"Perhaps he had wandered somewhere around here," Wendy deduced nonchalantly, scanning around the machine for possible clues. "Or even already died, and left this machine for us."

The telltale chill of fear ran over her spine as she said it.

"Let's hope not," she muttered under her breath. "Come, let's find some twigs and flints, shall we?"

Just then, the sky darkened and they looked up. "It's already dusk?" she whispered uneasily.

"It appears so, Miss Willow," Wendy replied and bent down to pick up a flower with a disgusted face. "This is a different realm than we were before, after all."

With that, she set off.

(line break)

"That was a close shave," spoke Maxwell as he rested against a medium-sized evergreen. Munching some of the berries he had collected with sheer disdain, he then pulled out the Codex Umbra and was about to read one of the numerous spells contained inside the book when a thought hit him.

"No; not now," he said and kept the tome back inside his suit. "I will need the fuels for a divining rod. I will have to find some gears, though."

He had noticed the long rod before he left and mused the rest had already started their journey, currently hot on the trail of searching for the Four Things. _But they hadn't known about that yet,_ he thought and got up soon after.

As he watched the sun set at the horizon of the Constant, a sigh escaped his mouth.

"Wait for me," he mumbled out and went back to the place he had woken up earlier that day.

When he arrived, the group called out his name and made him sit beside Woodie, who gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about earlier," the woodsman said, shifting on his seat. "I shouldn't ask that."

"No, it's not your fault," the magician brushed it away. "You have the right to do so." He then stared at the great fire done by Willow, and enjoyed the food Wolfgang had brought back when it was dinner time.

As night came soon after, all of them snuggled deeply into their straw roll, courtsey of Wendy. He lay beside Willow, who chose the closest place near the campfire to doze off.

"Are you sure we will be alright if no one takes care of the fire?" she asked in concern.

"We will be fine," Maxwell started but was interrupted by the sudden drizzle of rain all over the place. He looked at the firestarter, who had bit her lips in worry.

"I don't think I will sleep tonight," she simply informed.

(line break)

On the next day, the rain continued pouring from the sky above them in a steady pace, making everything around them slowly dripped with water.

She hated water above anything else. And yet here she was, walking in the rain along with her group.

"Stupid rain," she muttered under her breath, flickering away some of her wet bangs on her forehead. Her mind flashed back to the time Maxwell told them on what were they supposed to do earlier that day:

_"Listen, this world is_ very _dangerous," the tall man began. "We are on a mission to find the King. To do so, we must get pass through five worlds. Each world has four specific items laying around; namely the Four Things._

_"We will have to find these items to go to the next world. Do you copy that?"_

She glanced down at Wendy, who was currently holding the divining rod. Beside the child was Woodie, his eyes scanned back and forth in wary while gripping tight on his red axe, Lucy.

They had split into two groups; the other consisted of Maxwell and Wolfgang.

"Wonder how well are they doing," Wendy spoke wistfully, staring at the device in her hand. "They don't have one of this in hand."

"If you ask me," the lumberjack joined the conversation, "that Wolfgang guy looks lucky to me. I mean, he found you, kid! Or was it the other way around?" Shaking his head, he simply continued, "You surely have helped us a lot, Wendy; resourceful, even."

"Thank you for the compliment, Woodie," said the blonde.

Willow frowned at the woodsman the moment the name escaped her mouth.

"I let her to call me that," he explained with a laugh, "'Mister' doesn't suit me well."

The conversation was stopped when Wendy signaled them to be quiet, and leaned closer to the divining rod to hear the usual hum it did.

The sound had raised a pitch higher.

Grinning, they sped up forward, the noise of the divining rod got even higher with each step they took.

"There's definitely something around here!" Woodie shouted in excitement when the rod vibrated out of control in Wendy's grasp. "Everyone; open your eyes!"

They had entered the rocky terrain, almost similar to the one Willow had gone to before entering the Door. "We will get one of the Things!" she joined the feeling of triumph.

Their hopes were diminished soon after.

The three of them stood in front of the boulders, which were placed so close to each other. All over the place were black, furry balls. There was a clump of hay in front of each ball, and the survivors gulped in fear.

"Wendy, put away the divining rod. What is that?" the woodsman asked in a hushed voice.

"A furry ball...but that was a nest. A bird, maybe?" Willow ventured nervously. The knot in her stomach told her those round figures brought bad news, and she trusted her gut.

"Listen," she whispered to Wendy, "Find whatever was there," she pointed to a spot ahead of them, "and get back here as fast as you can. Can you do that?"

"What about you?" the blonde queried.

"We will cover you from behind, kid," Woodie reassured her. "Now go!"

Wendy didn't need to be told twice. She silently ran around the obstacle, sometimes turning back around to see the two adults had their weapon of choice in hand; Woodie had an ordinary axe while Willow was holding her lighter.

Reaching the site, she almost sighed in relief.

It was a place of corroded stone walls, which was surrounded with dark flowers. Grimacing at the smell they brought, she reached out for a small, wooden item inside the site and grabbed the spear that was placed nearby.

She raised her spear to tell her companions, and the couple strode toward her with tears trailed on their faces.

"You had us worried back there!" spoke Willow as they arrived and hugged her. Stunned with the gesture, she let the firestarter be and was more than relieved when she backed away.

"Now let's go back to our camp," the woman said happily.

A screech suddenly echoed around the place, causing them to freeze in their position. Slowly, they turned in horror to the cluster of black furs, which had stood up for each to reveal two long legs, a small beak and one giant eye.

"I hate this world," spoke Woodie.

The tallbirds raced toward the survivors and the lumberjack quickly raised his weapon.

_"Run, you two!"_ he ordered in distress, ready to swing his axe. He wasn't ready to die, not at all.

But the thought that he died of a noble cause made him smile weakly and he closed his eyes, preparing for the killing hit.

The strike didn't come.

Surprised, he snapped open his eyes and was shocked to see the predators were flapping their tiny wings around, getting burnt alive.

Turning to Willow and Wendy, he was even astounded when they locked eyes and shook their heads, not knowing what had happened.

Soon after, multiple numbers of lightning struck the tallbirds, which had the survivors stand still in their place. When the birds finally died, they heard someone clearing her throat and fished out their tools as defense.

As the person emerged from the forest, everyone's jaw dropped.

"I believe the phrase you're looking for is 'shock and awe'," she said with a wide grin.


	17. A Cold Reception: Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is gotta be the longest chapter I've written so far, but who knows? Maybe the ones coming soon are even longer. Sorry if it's kind of rambling a bit, and we have a guest appearance in this chapter!

Willow had her heart at her throat, speechless to see the survivor in front of her.

She was an old lady with thick-framed glasses, grey hair tied into a tight bun and the smile on her angular face somewhat soothed and frightened her at the same time.

"I believe we haven't properly introduced yet," said the woman, "Call me Ms. Wickerbottom."

"Wendy," spoke the blonde child beside Willow, "That's a rather fascinating tome you have there." She gestured toward the black-covered book in the woman's hand.

"Ah, it's one of my prized books; 'The End is Nigh' is the title," the lady explained, keeping the book inside her backpack. "I am a librarian back in the real world."

"Woodie, a woodsman at your service, ma'am," spoke the brown-haired man, bowing slightly. Wickerbottom nodded in acknowledgement and looked at her with interest.

"I...Willow," she grinned nervously, placing her lighter inside her pocket.

The librarian hummed before glancing at the sky, which was still grey above them and rain continued to pour out of the unseen clouds.

"It's getting late," she stated. "Why don't you come over to my camp? A good fire is what we need at the moment."

Willow's eyes lit up in joy when she heard it.

(line break)

Maxwell glanced at his partner, Wolfgang, who was looking back and forth around them with wild eyes every now and then. Currently they were in a forest, so his paranoia was justified. Still, he bit his lower lip; the strongman's action irritated him but he couldn't bring himself to scold said man. Instead he inhaled deeply, and cleared his throat soon after.

"Say pal," he started, "I know you're worried about young Wendy, but I assure you those two can take care of her."

The dark-haired man raised his eyebrows upon hearing it.

"She will be fine," he continued in impatience. "Right now we need to find a gear so that we can-"

"What's that?" Wolfgang cut in, pointing ahead of them.

There was a worn trail a few yards away, and both men frowned at the sight.

"Well, we'd better follow that path," the magician said, stroking his pointed chin. "It could lead us to one of the Things, if I'm not mistaken."

"Wolfgang trusts you!"

Maxwell's mouth almost lifted to a smile but he stopped himself in time, thinking: _Too naïve, and yet he's not that bad when it comes to strength._

_I wonder if he still remembers me?_

Shaking the thought away, he then led the other, walking along the path.

It was after a while did Wolfgang spoke again, "There is a strange red thing beside you."

Hearing him, the lanky man turned aside and saw it between the cluster of trees: a red orb on top of a white rod.

"It's been so long, I wonder-" he began, only to be interrupted by the sight of a circle of dark flowers.

Stunned, he lifted his gaze to the strongman, who had picked up the small staff. "Wonder what does this do?" he asked curiously, inspecting it.

He didn't answer him, for a _boing_ suddenly echoed around the forest and Wolfgang scooted closer to him. "Is that a monster?" he quivered.

"Yes, and no," Maxwell simply replied, brushing his partner aside and went to the circle of dark flowers, repulsing when the aroma of said flowers messed up with his senses. Quickly he reached for the dark ring inside the circle and stepped out at once.

"Never really like the smell of them," he mused, massaging his forehead. "Still, we got it. Come Wolfgang, let's go-"

The strongman was currently preoccupied by a round, orange creature in his lap, which was now licking his face. "Stop! It tickles!" he said between hearty laughs.

The magician couldn't help but to smile upon the sight before him.

"That's Chester," he explained, squatting beside Wolfgang and stroked the stumpy-legged beast's fur. "Annoying little creature, he is. He has his uses, though."

"Can we keep him?" the muscled man asked while hugging Chester close to him. The monster in return, snuggled its face at the crook of his neck, settling at its new position.

"Why not? We can use some extra storage it has to fill our pockets with. Come, let's go back to the camp; they probably had found one too."

With that, both men went back to the direction they had come from, now accompanied by the walking chest who kept the Ring Thing securely inside its body.

(line break)

"Forgive me for this rather unruly place; I wasn't expecting to see more people around here," Wickerbottom spoke as she allowed the group of three she had found earlier to step into her camp. She had done a Science Machine, a fire pit and some chests.

"It's modest, but it will do," Wendy ventured and sat nearby the fire pit, wringing the water out of her blonde hair.

Willow, taking the hint went beside the child and added some logs to the fire pit to start it up. "I could really use some dry wood," she muttered, watching as the fire slowly flickered to life.

"I'm on it," spoke Woodie, who then beelined to the evergreens near the camp and pulled Lucy out of his belt.

The three women only watched as the lumberjack began his work, pausing every now and then before picking the dropped wooden logs and went to the next tree.

"Quite a man, isn't he?" the librarian said and sat at Wendy's right side as Woodie felled another large evergreen in record time.

"Makes you wonder why he stops every while," the bereaved replied nonchalantly, already pulled out a red flower and caressed its petals.

"Maybe because Lucy is getting old," Willow gave her thoughts, "For an axe, that is."

"Then why would the King gave him a weak axe? That doesn't make any sense," Wendy argued.

"Probably it was the same reason like me with my lighter, and you with Abigail," the firestarter tried to debate, "a symbol, a memory back at home."

That put a stop into the conversation.

"Perhaps you're right," the girl finally whispered before suddenly stood up, surprising the other two.

"Wh-where are you going?" Willow asked as the child walked out of the camp.

"Back to our camp. Here, take the divining rod; I can go there by myself."

"No need to, I have the rod as well," Wickerbottom cut in, holding the same copy of the homing device in her hand.

"At least stay for the night, Wendy!" Willow tried to coax her. "You're not fully dry yet, you will get pneumonia!"

"Exactly," was the answer and both women only watched as Wendy lit up a torch and walked away a few seconds later.

Just then, night rolled in, and they continued to observe the tiny flicker of light ahead before it vanished between clumps of trees.

"Sorry I'm late!" Woodie called, stepping into the small camp, arms full of cut woods. "Where's Wendy?"

(line break)

Wendy didn't even turn back once as she traversed the lumpy evergreen forest. The rain was still there, showering her lightly with water though she occasionally took cover under said trees.

"Nature is good for something after all," she mused, flicking away the stray bangs of her blonde hair. She noticed a clear spot near her and settled there when the world was suddenly covered with darkness.

"I suppose a fire will do," she said and started a campfire, lighting it up with her torch before snuffing it out and leaned against a large evergreen. Out of boredom she took out the petals she had collected and made a flower crown, which she wore it reluctantly and she crafted a small umbrella with the remaining six.

"That's a pretty parasol you have there," a voice suddenly spoke. Her ears perked up; it had been a long time since she heard it.

"Indeed it is," she replied absent-mindedly and turned aside to pinpoint the phantom's position.

Her eyes locked at the skeleton beside her.

It was lying on the ground just outside the radius of her campfire, one bony arm reached for the sky as if to defy its death for the last time.

"How are you doing, Miss Wendy?" it greeted with its toothy grin and slowly, it heaved itself out of the ground; the child watched in fascination as it stood up, covered with dirt and went beside her.

"Never been better," she said with a small smile. "Who are you?"

"Wilton, at your service," the skeleton lifted the top of its skull, revealing its empty space. "I used to belong to a man; he's here somewhere."

"The King?" the sentence went out of her mouth.

"You could say that, though I won't be here for long. He doesn't wish for me to interrupt your quest, you know."

"Then why are you here?"

"Simply to send his regards for you."

"That's a waste of power," Wendy snided, and pulled out her sister's flower before caressing it.

"Well, to be honest it has something with your dear departed sister," Wilton spoke and she stopped.

"What does this have to do with Abigail?" she almost snapped.

"You must have already be numb with the process to summon her every now and then."

"Not exactly; I enjoyed it if it means I can play with her again."

"But to watch her come and then gone within a few days, gravely wounded for protecting you? That's a shame."

A long silence entered the air. Wendy had her head lowered, avoided staring at the flower in her palm.

"Now, don't get me wrong; the King only thinks it's a waste of time and effort."

"So what?" the blonde mumbled out. "I will do whatever it takes to see Abigail again! Even if I have to kill!!" Already an axe was in her hand and she swung it at the skeleton in fury.

Her eyes lit up when the skull was cut from the body, only to be disappointed when the head was picked up.

"I am known as the Undead by the King himself. You've wasted your energy," the skeleton scowled as it placed its skull back, "and your opportunity to be obedient! May this world will claim you someday!"

"That was what I wished for," she replied in sheer distaste.

"Good riddance then!" With that, Wilton stomped hard on the ground and disappeared into a puff of smoke. Wendy, stunned with the sight dropped her axe and curled herself under the tree before sobbing, her tears fell onto Abigail's flower.

"Oh Abigail..."

When the sun rose the next day, she left the place, the rain already began to subdue.

Maxwell and Wolfgang were surprised to see her alone back at their camp later on, when the rest of the group appeared with Wickerbottom in tow.

"Sorry for being late!" spoke Woodie as he settled near the fire pit. "We were exploring this world and found a bridge when the divining rod blared the loudest, but we can't get through it 'cuz it was guarded by pigs. _Pigs_ of all things!!"

"Ah, the Guardian Pigs," Maxwell said, taking a bite of the kabob prepared by Willow. "They can be very nasty. But we have the upper hand, so why don't we go there now?"

His statement made everyone cheer, except for Wendy, who had her eyes narrowed in suspicion and watched as the rest packed up their items before leaving, the magician being the leader with Willow at his side.

The journey took them almost half the day; the sun was just about to set when they arrived at the bridge Woodie told earlier.

"So what do we have in hand at the moment?" Maxwell asked. He reached inside Chester, which had loyally followed them and pulled out the Ring Thing.

"We found the Box Thing yesterday-" Willow spoke as Wendy lazily pulled out said item. "-and Ms. Wickerbottom had the Crank Thing."

"That means...Oh." The man's face went distraught when realization hit him.

"Something wrong, magic man?" Wolfgang asked in concern.

"Nothing to worry about," the tall man brushed the thought away. "Let's fight those pigs."

They began to cross the bridge as dusk came, when bipedal pigs in grass skirts and bands on their head suddenly hissed as they reached at the middle of it.

"YOU NO COME," one of them spoke.

"STAY AWAY," said the other with bared teeth.

"I'm afraid we have no choice," Maxwell flexed his shoulders and pulled out his Dark Sword. "Charge!!"

Willow pulled out her lighter and set the wooden walls that previously acted as barriers on fire, causing the pigs to flail their arms in panic. It wasn't for long though; the fire died soon after, and the Guardian Pigs were really _not_ happy when they locked eyes with each of the survivors.

"YOU WILL DIE!!"

"SAVE KING!!"

Maxwell didn't hesitate as he sliced open one of his opponents with his shadowy weapon, glancing around as his team made way across the bridge.

Wolfgang was punching the pig near a giant torch, which provided them light as time went by. Wickerbottom had read one of her books, where three tentacles suddenly sprouted from the ground nearby her and smacked the rest of the pigs.

When he looked for Wendy and Woodie, he noticed they had made it to the other end of the bridge; in the woodsman's arms was a shiny round item.

He couldn't hide his fear from showing as the child tapped the Metal Potato Thing curiously.

"Maxwell!!" Willow's voice brought him back to reality. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!!"

When all of them had crossed the bridge, they quickly build a campfire for night had come seconds later.

"That was very good!" Wolfgang shouted happily as he munched on some cooked berries. "Will we fight other monsters?"

"Yes we will," Maxwell replied, wiping away the blood stain on his Dark Sword. "We will fight robots later."

"They will all cower as Wolfgang destroy them all!"

"Indeed they do. Now go to sleep, we will need your mighty muscles tomorrow."

Smiling, the strongman grabbed his straw roll and snuggled inside before drifting to sleep along with Woodie and Willow.

"You're not sleeping, Ms. Wickerbottom?" the magician asked the librarian, who was leaning against a tree.

"Go ahead Maxwell, I'm not feeling tired yet," was the answer.

Shrugging, he took out his straw roll, glancing at the Metal Potato Thing uneasily and went to sleep soon after, not realizing a pair of eyes was watching him.

"What are you up to, William?" Wendy whispered.

As the sunrise marked their fourth day in the world, rain started to pour out heavily from the sky above, making everything soaked with water within seconds.

"We will not get to the Wooden Thing with this blizzard is holding us up!!" Willow cried out as they ventured in search for the platform that would bring them to the next world. "I'm drenched with water of all things!!"

"Like the King said, 'You will get soaked by your will to venture'!!" Woodie repeated the Constant's ruler's parting words sarcastically. "Isn't that clever?!" He snorted upon the joke in the sentence.

_Yes,_ very _clever,_ Maxwell couldn't help but to agree with the lumberjack. "Water will ruin a good suit, you know?" he muttered under his breath to no one.

When the divining rod in Wendy's hand blared louder, they ignored the rising dampness of their clothes and ran toward the Wooden Thing, where four robots guarded each side of the platform.

They only watched as two of them stood up and split up as soon as they fired electric beams at them for distraction so that Wolfgang could take the tall robots out. Willow and Maxwell fought the horse-shaped automatons with their weapon of choice while Wendy and Woodie placed the Four Things on the platform and the divining rod at its intended place.

After the battle, they stood in front of the Wooden Thing, exhausted but happy to move to the next world.

"Ready?" Maxwell asked his team, who nodded at once and hesitantly turned on the portal.

The Metal Potato Thing unfolded itself to reveal a face everyone turned to soon after.

"What's the meaning of this?!" Woodie growled at once and grabbed Maxwell's collar when the portal whirled to life. "Why is your face on that thing?!"

"Not now, Woodie; we have to go!!" the magician tried to divert the lumberjack's attention. Luckily, Willow came to his rescue and activated the Wooden Thing.

"This isn't over yet, Maxwell! Wait until we get to the next world!" Woodie's words were cut off as shadowy limbs emerged from the platform and pulled everyone into nothingness.


	18. The Game is Afoot: Dusk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The next Adventure chapter is up! (A.k.a the level in said mode that I hate the most) Hang on tight, for we're about to fall into some series of madness...
> 
> (can't wait for the result of the Hamlet DLC Beta users)

Ms. Wickerbottom was a woman of many things. She had retained the knowledge from her intense learning back in the old days, and thus didn't question much when she was dragged into the void by mystical dark limbs along with her new group.

That was, until the same voice that first greeted her in the previous realm spoke again, this time with a hint of amusement:

"Hmm, it looks to me you have lived for another challenge."

A cold gust of wind suddenly entered the air, and she couldn't help but to shiver as the phantom continued, "Perhaps a change of scenery will give me justice."

And he was gone.

The old librarian snapped her eyes open, wincing at the sleepy motion she still had as she adjusted her thick-framed spectacles. _Oh, what a bliss it was..._

"Wh- _where are we?_ " a young woman muttered beside her and got up as well. She turned to the pigtail-haired and smiled weakly, "We have jumped to the next level of the game, dear."

"Oh," was the only word Willow could say upon hearing the statement. "What in the-" her mouth hung open when she looked around their surroundings.

There were three burnt spiky trees around the group, swaying slightly as the wind blew from east with a diminishing campfire was placed precariously next to a wooden chest.

And the world was fully covered in _snow_.

Both women looked at each other; one with eyes bulged full of horror while the other only nodded reluctantly as truth dawned into them.

Then they heard movement, and they turned to the rest of the survivors.

"Well, that was quite a trip," spoke Woodie as he got up, massaging his forehead. He was then followed by the only child of the group, Wendy, then Wolfgang and finally, Maxwell.

"Listen, pal-" the magician began, getting on his feet and backed away from the woodsman at once.

"Zip it, Maxwell; I would _love_ to continue our fight, but I wouldn't," the redhead said and stood up, huddling his body. "There must be something we can do about this chilly weather."

The five of them watched as he walked toward the wooden chest and rummaged inside it with a cloud of mist occasionally escaped his mouth.

"Well, there isn't much in there to began with, but at least we have these to keep our noggin warm," Woodie said when he returned, arms full of blue wooly hats. He already had wore one and gave the other five to his group.

"Made of beefalo wool and some silks, I presume," Ms. Wickerbottom examined the clothing before putting it on and turned to Willow, who had her teeth chattering while curling into a fetal position.

"Here, dear," she handed the winter hat to the firestarter. When she didn't make a move, the old lady placed the hat neatly on top of her head.

"Stupid King," the dark-haired woman mumbled out, which caused her to raise her eyebrows in wonder.

"Escaping the rain only to give us the season we tried to avoid? Hah, very clever of you, _sir!_ " Willow absent-mindedly went on.

Still stunned with her statement, the librarian took the pieces of information together and deduced the group had entered the Door to get away from the harsh weather of winter. Knowing that, she touched Willow's clothes and realized they were still damp. Added with the coldness of winter, she would freeze.

"You should stay near the fire, dear; you will get frostbite," she advised the other woman and held her lower arm to lift her up.

Just then, the sun set into the horizon, causing the world to darken even more than usual.

"And look! We're not even here for five minutes and already it's _dusk_!!!" the firestarter hollered before cackling madly, causing everyone there to jump.

"Is the fire still there?" the librarian asked in concern.

"No," replied Woodie, whose face was solemn. "Don't wanna lose the chest, so I don't attend to it."

"Well, we'd better make a new one," Maxwell chimed in. "This cold weather will get you for sure if you weren't careful."

With that, he set off to gather some resources. They were surprised to see Wendy tailed him from behind soon after, though they decided it was the best she could do.

"I will get some woods," the lumberjack said and pulled out his red axe, Lucy from his belt before chopping the large evergreen near the wooden chest.

Wolfgang, noticing his fiery friend was having a bad time went beside her to comfort her. "Don't worry fire lady, we will do a giant fire just for you!" he said as he hugged her close.

"Thanks, Wolfgang," Willow whispered before having another fit of laughter and pulled out her small lighter, flicking it on. "But why should I wait for that when I can do it _now_?!"

She then dashed toward the forest a few yards away from them. Taken aback, both the librarian and the strongman chased after her, leaving Woodie at his devices.

"Tch," he muttered, taking a break from his job, "that woman is a lot crazier than I thought."

And he resumed chopping the trees, making sure to plant the pine cones before moving to the next one.

(line break)

"So tell me again; why would you follow me?" Maxwell spoke as he and Wendy walked across the grasslands that was now covered with snow, pockets filled with resources. They had took notice of the early dusk, though neither of them talked about it.

"Nothing in particular," the blonde replied, caressing her deceased twin sister's flower. The sight of a rabbit hole caught her eyes and she slightly tugged the man's sleeves. "What is it?" he asked, turning to her.

"Could you dig this hole for me?"

Maxwell was puzzled when she handed him a shovel before his eyes fell on the rabbit hole. He could see the snout of said animal barely poke out of the burrow.

"Up to some killing, eh? Sure," he said with a grin and pulled out his Dark Sword but Wendy shook her head.

" _I_ am the one who will do the killing," she stressed, eyes narrowed. "Lend me that sword, if you won't mind."

Shocked with the statement, he only let her as she took the shadowy weapon and gave him the shovel, placing the red flower beside the burrow with raised eyebrows. Sighing, he took the cue and dug the burrow with all his might.

The now white-furred horned rabbit leapt away as soon as its home was destroyed, but its life was swiftly ended in one swipe of the Dark Sword, leaving behind a morsel.

The rabbit's blood splattered on the flower and soon after, a ghost appeared in return, moaning as it glided toward Wendy. The magician noted it was the same apparation that reluctantly spared his life before entering the Door.

Wendy however, was having an almost deranged look, gazing deeply in awe at the Dark Sword. She slowly trailed her fingers across its sharp translucent blade, which instantly caused blood to pour out of her skin.

Maxwell, who was still surprised with the blood ritual the girl had done was now horrified with the whole scene. Snapping himself out of his trance, he grabbed his weapon and placed it in his pinstripe coat.

Then he gently rocked the child's shoulder, which brought her back to reality and both stared at her bleeding palm.

"Sorry," was all Wendy could mumble out. "Hello Abigail," she then turned to her ghostly twin sister with a weak smile, who replied with a low wail.

"A spider gland should treat that wound just fine," Maxwell said, examining the depth of the injury.

"Do you see any flowers laying around?" the blonde asked wistfully, "They will do well as substitute."

"There were some back in the meadows," the man said, "we might as well go back to where we woke up today."

"Splendid," Wendy agreed and the three of them walked to meet the others, with the magician gazed at the twins in concern.

_A blood ritual, of all things?_ he pondered, his eyes trailed at Abigail before falling onto Wendy again. _Poor little thing, you are._ _Desperate to see your sibling again, you're willing to give up your dear life in this wretched place._

_I really envy you, Wendy._

He watched as the child picked up every flower they spotted with a grimace, repulsed with the awful smell they brought. Soon, she had gathered about two dozens of petals and crafted a garland, a pretty parasol and ate the rest.

"You look pretty in those," he complimented when she held the grassy umbrella to cover herself from snowflakes that began to fall from the sky, "just like a girl your age should be."

"I don't exactly appreciate that thought, but thank you," Wendy replied curtly. Smiling, he brushed away the snow that accumulated on his shoulders.

When they finally arrived at the place they woke up earlier, they were surprised to see only Woodie was there, tending the newly-built campfire far away from the wooden chest.

"Where are the others?" he asked, sitting across the fire with Wendy and Abigail followed suit.

"Out hunting for your gal; she went crazy earlier and ran away," the lumberjack explained; he was polishing Lucy's red blade.

"Oh," he moaned out, already knew what Willow was doing.

They sat there for a while when Woodie broke the silence, gruffly saying, "Can I ask you something?"

Maxwell gulped in paranoia as soon as the sentence was finished.

(line break)

Wolfgang wasn't really sure what had happened. One time his fiery friend was sad, the next second she was being a crazed woman who wanted to set everything on fire. The lighter in her hand certainly didn't help much in the situation he and the old lady who accompanied him were now: watching as the firestarter stood in front of a forest nestled with _three-tiered_ ** _spider nests_**.

"Are you alright, Wolfgang?" the librarian whispered.

"A bit hungry," he whimpered, "and scared. Why does fire lady come here?" He edged closer to her, and she patted him on the back and brushed his hair to comfort him.

Willow on the other hand, was beaming from ear to ear with her lighter was trembling in delight in her grip. _Finally, the place where I_ have a reason _to burn down!!_ she thought.

Without any doubts, she set the nearest tree on fire, much to the dismay of Ms. Wickerbottom, who was still fascinated with how the growth of lumpy evergreens worked in the Constant.

Seconds later, the whole forest became a raging inferno. The six-legged spiders that littered the place began to shriek in pain as their homes were destroyed and they themselves being burnt alive.

Willow only stood still, marveling at the glorious scene before her. The pain in her mind slowly subdued as the forest fire soothed her anxiety and she sighed in relief.

It wasn't until she turned around did she saw Wolfgang and Wickerbottom; both had covered their faces with their arms, coughing heavily in the smoke that clouded their visions.

A faint memory suddenly flashed in her mind, and her eyes widened in horror and realization:

_"Fire! Fire! Everyone; get out now!"_

_"It hurts!"_

_"Call the firefighters, please!"_

_"This is_ your _fault, young missus!!! You and your obsessions brought nothing but trouble!!!"_

_"An arsonist shouldn't even exist in this world. May the fire itself be your death someday!!!"_

In the mist of her foggy mind, a ear-splitting shrill was heard, which snapped her out of her trance. Shocked, she rushed to the two survivors when suddenly, a heavy snowstorm blew all over the forest, covering everything in snow instantly. She then huddled close to her partners, keeping her lighter on in her now shaking hand.

Soon after, the forest fire died, leaving behind lots of burnt trees. The three survivors slowly stood up, with two of them were giving Willow a stern look.

"Honestly young lady, I expect you to be careful, even for a pyromaniac's standards," Ms. Wickerbottom began, wiping away the dust on her glasses with a piece of cloth before putting it on. She had known the tendency of the woman in front of her to randomly start fire, but the event happened just now was too much.

Willow only hung her head in shame upon the truth. "Sorry," she mumbled out. Her lighter was being tossed around between her hands before it was taken by Wolfgang. Surprised, she looked up, only to see the strongman was no longer smiling at her as he did always.

"You could have us killed, you know," the librarian whispered. The firestarter's body froze when she heard it.

"As your punishment, we will be keeping this," the old lady nodded at the man before turning away. "That is, until further notice when we think you've learnt your lesson."

"Yes, ma'am," Willow said in utmost defeat.

"Come Wolfgang; they will be worried sick if we don't return before nightfall," Wickerbottom told, and the three of them trudged across the heavy snow when they heard a low sobbing sound.

"Someone's in danger!" Wolfgang shouted and dashed back into the dead forest, along with the librarian. Meanwhile, Willow's face was distraught of _knowing a person got caught in the fire_ she _had caused_.

The stocky-built man made his way through the woods; the sobbing was louder in every step he took. He brushed away the branches when he abruptly stopped, puzzling Wickerbottom.

"Is something wrong, Wolfgang?" she asked. She followed the strongman's gaze and her eyes drooped sadly at once.

A humanly-shaped figure was kneeling on the ground, shaking the dead bodies of some spiders. When they locked eyes, the librarian couldn't bear to see the figure.

For he too was a spider.


	19. The Game is Afoot: Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some bonds were made, and some were broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for the long delay in updates, thus I decided to pull out this freakishly long chapter just for you all!
> 
> Also, we've reached the second half of 'Fallen'! So basically, there are 18 more chapters left, including the epilogue (I think). *nervous laugh* Let's pick up at where we were at the last chapter, shall we?
> 
> Warning: some suicide thoughts.

Wolfgang was not a fan when it comes to scary things, and his fear was amplified as he was dropped into the mind-challenging world known only as the Constant. With its bizarre creatures roamed freely around the place, it's a wonder how he could survive before meeting Wendy and the rest of the survivors.

Though, he couldn't help but to wonder at the figure a few feet away from him.

He could see it was a person, but it has eight milky eyes like a spider, and even have some of the arachnid's limbs around its head. A combination of man and spider? That certainly boggled his mind.

Wickerbottom, the smart lady apparently shared his opinion about the spider human. And so, she held out one hand while slowly approaching him.

"Don't worry dear child; we won't harm you," she put a cautious step forward. "We will help you."

The answer she got was no more than inviting to say the least.

"Help?" the spider hybrid spat out in fury, the four limbs around his head twitched as he spoke. His voice was so deep, even more than Wolfgang's. "You...you destroyed our home! And _our friends_!!" He pointed at the dead bodies of spiders near him.

"It was an accident," the librarian tried to explain but was soon cut off by the human arachnid, "Accident! That was what they always say!!!"

It wasn't long before tears began to pour out of all his eight eyes, and he squatted beside the carcasses, mumbling as he stroked the one with yellow streaks, "Spiders are the only ones who understood us. And you have killed them! _All of them!!!_ "

Both humans' heart broke in sadness when they heard the statement.

"I deeply apologize for what I have done," a voice spoke, and all of them turned to the newly arrived Willow, who had trails of teardrops over her gaunt face.

"I didn't mean to, it's just...this place!!!" she suddenly exploded. "This place is eating away my mind, and I can't do anything about it! Stupid me!! Me with my petty wants!! _I can't take this anymore!!!_ "

The other three were horrified as the firestarter brandished out her axe, its blade was glistering as the fading light hit it. She then rushed to the spider human and firmly placed the weapon in his hand.

"Kill me," she said with a grin before kneeling in front of him and head lowered, tears already pooled around her eyes, "if you must. I killed your friends, it's only fair that way."

The strongman and the librarian gasped as the arachnid, still grief-stricken with the death of his friends raised the axe above Willow's head without any hesitance.

Then a whimper came out and the weapon was dropped, cutting Willow's left pigtail a bit. Stunned, she looked up at the spider hybrid, who was shaking from head to toe.

"I...We can't," he choked out between his sobs, "We don't want to be a murderer, even if we want to."

_We?_ Willow frowned.

A second later, the hybrid collapsed on the ground.

(line break)

Webber couldn't think much after the fire incident that claimed his friends' life. He was too scared of the seemingly eternal snow, and the long dusk that the world offered wasn't the one he wanted the most.

He knew he was lying; feigning his unconsciousness so that he wanted to see how the humans would treat him. Sure, he had long forgiven the spider that ate him and easily accustomed with the rest of the arachnids, but to see other people...that was new.

But the fact that he was scooped by strong arms and being held close to ensure his warmth made him sleepy, and soon enough, he dozed off in Wolfgang's embrace.

When he woke up the next day, his head cleared a bit and he got up, wincing at his wounds caused by the forest fire. Surprised to see them bandaged, he looked around and saw a blonde girl with a spirit beside her, watching him from a campfire afar. Gathering his strength, he slowly walked toward them.

"H-hello," he ventured nervously, still not used to his throaty voice; it sounded too deep for his liking.

"Greetings," she said in return. "Have some food please, you must be starving." She handed him a bowl of meatballs, which puzzled him at first until his eyes fell onto the crockpot near a strange spherical machine.

"Thank you." He then sat beside her, in which a second later dusk came. He tried to hide his discomfort, though to no avail. When he turned to her, he was stunned to see her simply gazed up to the sky before holding a grassy umbrella and placing a flower crown on her head.

_She looks very...calm,_ he thought before lifting his gaze to the meatballs. _It's been so long..._

A long silence occured with the girl tended the campfire while he finished his meal. "It was good," he grinned, placing the bowl aside. "Who are you?"

"Wendy, and Abigail," she introduced herself and her ghostly twin. The ghost wailed softly, causing the blonde to smile. "It's alright, Abigail; he's a friend," she explained. "Can you look out for dangers that lurked around here?"

With a nod, Abigail drifted a bit farther from the campfire, leaving the other two.

"Webber," he finally continued.

"Pleased to know you."

"Were you two alone? We remember seeing-"

"They went to search for Miss Willow and the Four Things."

All of his eight eyes blinked hard upon hearing the statement.

"Who's Miss Willow?" he asked.

"You don't want to know her."

The spider child could feel the telltale chill of fear crept all over his body. "Is she-?"

"Yes."

Webber only half-focused as Wendy continued, "She got an early start, and nobody knew where she had gone to. They told me to keep you company should you rose from your temporary death."

"What's that?" he interrupted, trying to steer away the conversation; the previous day's events were flashing in his mind.

"An alchemy machine. I thought you build it," the girl followed his gaze and questioned with raised eyebrows.

"No we don't," he quickly said. "When we first woke up here, we were right in the forest where our friends were. But..."

Wendy leaned closer in interest and egged him to go on, so he added, "We remember seeing someone before we got here."

"Someone? Do you get a look on him?"

"Not exactly; we don't even know what happened after we got eaten." He paused as if to see whether the girl was horrified or even fainted, but that didn't happen. And so, he continued re-enacting his story, "We remember there was a flash of lightning, and we got resurrected. That was when we saw him."

"How does he look like?"

"It was rather hazy because there was a heavy rain. But we got a glimpse of him! He...was soaked with water and looked very hairy. His beard was so long; we can't see much of his body!"

"Beard? We have one, though I doubt he was the man you had in mind." Wendy gave her thoughts.

"He was short too! For a man, that is. We thought he was stunned with us raising from the dead, but then another lightning struck us and everything went black. We don't know how long we were in the void, until weeks ago."

Wendy tapped her chin with a wry smile crossed her face. "I think you've seen the person we're looking for," she muttered.

"Who?" Webber eagerly asked but the girl shook her head. "Not now, Webber. Let's wait for the rest."

"But we also have the divining rod! Hang on a second-" He searched around him for said item before was stopped by Wendy, "They...'borrowed' yours; Miss Willow had taken the other one."

"Oh. We guess we really can't go much, eh?"

"It seems so. Are you fit enough to do some work? They should be back soon," the blonde fished out her axe.

"We will help!"

(line break)

Maxwell was not in his best mood.

Sure, he had tried to compose himself from the grueling challenges the Constant offered, but the incidents that happened the day before were too much for him to handle.

And above that, he was accompanied by _Woodie_ of all survivors in search for his missing partner, Willow. He glanced at the lumberjack behind him with tightened lips.

He didn't know what to do with the bearded man, besides the fact that he screamed bad news to him. His heart was hammering hard, so he took a few deep breaths and turned around to start a conversation.

"We didn't talk much yesterday, eh?" Woodie made the first move.

"Y-Yeah," he sheepishly replied, surprised with the sudden turn. Like the lumberjack said, they couldn't have a chitchat the day before since Wendy and Abigail were around, and when Ms. Wickerbottom and Wolfgang stepped back into the small camp with a spider child in the strongman's arms, he quickly headed out in fear for a while, knowing the hybrid would cause him some trouble when he woke up.

What shocked him was that Willow followed him, and without a word, they made a bonfire which blazed brightly in the snowy weather. As he settled near the campfire with the Codex Umbra in hand, he couldn't help but to ask out of concern:

"Something wrong happened back there, Willow?"

What he got in return was a piercing glare from the firestarter, in which he half-cowered before turning his gaze to his black magic tome. The warmth from the fire slowly lulled him to sleep, and the first thing that he registered when he rose for the day was that Willow had already gone, taking along the initial divining rod.

He had quite a row with the rest of the survivors later on; telling them she was just as important even though she had commited arson (Which was very plausible when one think of it). Both the librarian and Wolfgang said it was still crime, and they keep hold of Willow's lighter but of course, it was taken as well.

While Wendy tended the still unconscious newcomer, they split into two groups; one in search for the Four Things scattered around the second world while the other looked out for the missing firestarter.

"You found her back there?" Woodie said, referring to the world before they entered the Door.

"She found me," he answered half-heartedly, brushing away the low branches of evergreens that blocked his vision.

"Listen...about what I want to ask you, it's not what you think."

Perplexed, he stopped. "Sorry?"

"I don't know if it was just sheer luck back in the rainy world, but I have a little request," the woodsman scratched the back of his head. "Can we at least get out of each world before full moon?"

"If you ask me, the sooner the better," he said with a snort before turning away and continued walking. Then a thought hit him. "Something wrong, pal?"

Woodie only shook his head, griping tight on his red axe, Lucy. "Nothing. Let's find her fast; this place is giving me the creeps."

_If only you know,_ he thought as they prepared torches and placed them in each other's backpack.

(line break)

Willow was too tired.

She had quite a headstart that day and went to find the Four Things herself. Now that her hunger began to catch up, she couldn't help but feeling guilty for not leaving a note behind. Sure, the seeds the strangely blue birds and crows had brought every now and then helped, but that was it.

At least she had found three of the four items needed to gain access to the next world with each was scattered in different parts of the world; the only access to get in was passing through variety bridges. The Things were inside her backpack, and she weakly smiled when her eyes fell onto the Metal Potato Thing as she rummaged it to find some bits of food while walking. Her vision had already started to blur and she sighed.

"There isn't much difference here and then," she wistfully spoke before giggling, "Same ol' Willow, fending for herself as the world opposes her!"

Then she broke into tears. "Why can't I just leave...?" she wailed to no one. A pang of hunger hit her and she leaned against a boulder to support herself.

That was when she saw it:

A willow tree. All alone in the middle of the snowy meadow, its branches swayed slightly as the cold wind blew from west. Even within her hazy mind, she somewhat managed to head toward the plant that bore her namesake and rested under it.

"Huh..." she mumbled, scooping some snow and pressed it against her hollow face. "Hello there," she brushed her hand on the rough bark of the tree before taking off the winter hat that warmed her head. "I can't believe I actually say this, but...just take me already. I'm not the one you're looking for, whatever your intention is."

Finished saying her last words, she took a deep breath and waited. _Any second now..._

"Leaving so soon, Miss Willow?"

Hearing that, her eyes snapped open and she gasped in shock.

For in front of her was the man (or the ghost) that helped her dealing with the Treeguard. However, the smile in his face was not friendly like the previous encounter as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"Dying because of the very thing he told you not to? Starvation? Or was it the winter that will claim you?" He tutted playfully, which spooked her a bit. "Let's get to that later; it looks to me you didn't fulfill all of your promises, Miss Willow; I wonder what bothers you so much?" he spoke in a rather sinister voice.

"Wh-Why are you here? Why didn't I die already?" she asked instead, grabbing the man's collar. "Let me out of this stupid place; I'm sick of these games you've set up, _King!_ " she spat out the last word sarcastically. "I'm not your plaything, and that is a fact!!!"

The man before her was amused with her outrage. "Is that so," he said with a wry smile. "What happened to you, a proclaimed excellent Girl Scout? Isn't survival like, your best fort? And your words too, are they worthy like one should?"

Willow was more than terrified now that the promises she had done flashed in her mind.

_"Take care of your old pal, Maxwell."_

_"Tell him we send regards to him, from Charlie and the King."_

"Still, it's death that you seek at the moment, right?" the man continued, "Well, you're in luck. Here," he shoved a small item in her hand. She gasped upon the sight of the item; it was her trusty lighter.

"Wh-what am I supposed to do with this?" she frightfully asked, shivering because of the cold. She had already used all of her logs and grasses to warm her up when searching for the Four Things.

"You know better than me on what to do," he replied, still with the smile in his pale face.

Willow turned her gaze toward the willow tree in incredulity and horror. Between hunger and frozen to death, which one should she choose?

"Go ahead; burn the tree," the man egged on, voicing her own thoughts, "surely the frost will take you painfully, but so does the gnaw in your stomach. Fire seems to be the best way to die, if you ask me."

"B-but it...can't h-hurt me," she retorted, her lighter was now shaking badly in her snow-covered hands. "Fire...i-is my friend. Al- _always_."

"Is that so," he said, his eyes glinted in curiosity, "Hmm. Why don't you give it a go then? I'm interested to see if your words are trustworthy."

Provoked by the statement, Willow gathered all her strength to start up her lighter, and as the small flame flickered to life, she didn't hesitate to set the tree in front of her on fire.

_It was beautiful,_ she managed to think as she marveled upon the scene. The smell of wilted leaves and crisps of the trunk getting burnt invaded her mind and put her at ease.

A second later, a sharp pain shot through her body, which caused her to convulse and slowly, she turned to the seemingly kind gentleman, who was now watching her sympathetically.

"J-just who...are you?" she croaked out, tears brimmed out from her eyes. The pain was too intense and her already weak body could only stand so much, so she laid on the hard-packed snowy ground, jerking every now and then.

Her question was left unanswered though, as her vision blacked out soon after.

The man lifted her gaze from the firestarter to the willow tree, which was still burning brightly. With a wave of his hand, the fire subdued and he sighed. As the cold wind blew, he could hear faint voices from afar, calling for the woman at his feet.

"Forgive me, Miss Willow," he said apologetically before leaving, "but it must be done."

With a flash of lightning, he was gone.

(line break)

Woodie didn't really believe in miracles.

But to see the firestarter that had run away earlier that day was still alive (albeit being unconscious) changed his mind. Without a word, he and Maxwell rushed to her side, brushing away the snow accumulated on her body.

"Get a fire started, she's gone cold for quite a long time," the magician ordered hastily while he checked her pulse. He only bit his lower lip before frowning; around Willow were patches of carrots and berry bushes, placed so close to each other. Shrugging the thought away for now, he soon made a fire and added so many logs to it that it quickly became a giant bonfire.

"She will love this," said Maxwell as he gently placed the woman near the fire before sitting next to her.

"Definitely," he chimed in, "We got quite lots of food here, might as well cook them for her," he pointed at the rows of carrots.

Reaching a silent agreement, both men roasted the vegetables and berries while re-heating the batch of meatballs Wendy made for them earlier that day.

"You see it, right?" he asked gruffly, placing the cooked berries aside. "The light, I mean."

"I must be blind to not seeing that," the magician snorted. "But where is the source? It must be from a tree, and yet there isn't any around here."

"She probably chopped it down," Woodie said. Even he knew that was a weak reasoning.

"Let's see if she got something to keep this fire going," Maxwell grabbed Willow's backpack and rummaged inside it, stopping at once when he saw the three Things, including the Metal Potato Thing.

_She...she went to find these,_ he thought in disbelief, glancing at the unconscious firestarter. The conversation he had with her during the first night in the first world began to echo in his mind...

_"Hey Willow," he began while taking shelter under a large evergreen; it had just started to rain._

_"Yeah?" she turned to him, absent-mindedly adding a log to the campfire._

_"Well...you know I was once the King here, right?"_

_"What's wrong with that?"_

_"The thing is...we need to find four items-" he was soon cut off by her, "Yeesh, I know that already, find the Four Things and get out of here. What's the problem, then?"_

_"One of the Things...it, uh...it bears my face." He avoided her stare, his face went pink a bit._

_He certainly didn't expect for her to bark into laughter._

_"So that's what you're worried about?" she said, brushing away bits of tears around her eyes. "Geez, for you to worry about others' opinion of you, well...that's new." She giggled, which added the redness in his face._

_"Still, don't worry; I won't tell a soul of it," she flicked her wet bangs, "that is, until_ you _said it yourself."_

_"Promise?" he couldn't help to ask._

_Once again Willow spluttered in elation, "You're such a child, Maxwell. Alright, a pinky promise if you were that desperate."_

"Got anything in there?" Woodie's voice interrupted his thoughts and he was thrown back to reality, almost glaring at said man but managed to stop himself.

"No," he said instead and placed the backpack aside, "there were only ashes."

Both men then heard a movement and they turned to Willow, who shifted in her sleep before a moan escaped her mouth and her eyes slowly opened up, squinted at them.

Then she abruptly got onto her feet and backed away from them at once.

"Willow, it's us! Maxwell, and Woodie!" he called out, more out of fear when she stared at them with a deranged look and pulled out her axe.

"Max...well?" the firestarter frowned and loosened her grip on her weapon. "S-sorry." She dropped the tool and settled close to the roaring campfire, ignoring the men. "Hello there," she hovered her right hand toward the flame with a grin.

A few seconds later, her skin began to blister and she pulled her hand away in shock. "What the-" she mumbled before placing her other hand into the fire. The pain erupted from it caused her to jerk away and stared at the fire in utter disbelief.

"No," she turned to her hands with widened eyes. _"No."_

Maxwell only had the time to cover his ears when she suddenly screamed in denial, knowing her ability to stand fire was now gone. It wasn't for long though, as a loud thud was heard only to see she went unconscious again. Stunned, he looked up to see Woodie with his red axe raised, teeth bared in determination.

"It had to be done," he muttered out shakily and lowered Lucy. "Let's get out of here fast; the rest must be worried sick." Reluctantly, he grabbed Willow's backpack and offered to carry the woodsman's as well, who only grunted in agreement as he flexed his arms around before scooping the woman up and heading back to the small camp they had set up.

The next day, the survivors' faces were all solemn. In fact, they didn't even register the dusk had arrived as they discussed on what happened the day before.

"We have gone through the bridge full of Clockworks, but there wasn't anything to be found," said Ms. Wickerbottom, the oldest member of the group. Her partner, Wolfgang only nodded in acknowledgement. "We did however, found the Wooden Thing and had already destroyed the automatons that guarded the place. That said, we must traverse through the bridge full of Tallbirds first to get there."

"That wasn't hard, we just need to run pass them before they wake up from their rest. At least Willow had found three of the Things; the Ring, the Crank and the Metal Potato," Maxwell chimed in, glancing at the mentioned firestarter.

She was still numb with the fact she could now feel the pain of getting burnt like everyone else, and currently she did nothing; just fixed her gaze at her feet as if they were the most interesting sight she had seen.

"Is there any other place we hadn't gone to?" spoke Wendy out of boredom, causing everyone to turn to her.

"Well..." the librarian pulled out the new map (made out of combination of hers', Maxwell's and Willow's) and scanned around before sighing, "Yes, there is one."

Almost everyone had their spirit lifted upon hearing the news.

"It was where Miss Willow had commited her crime."

Silence quickly came soon after, with most of them had their eyes on the black-haired woman, feeling sorry for her.

"We will go," said Webber suddenly and stood up, the mandibles around his head twitched in excitement. "We've been there, and we can get the Box Thing for you."

"Allow me to accompany you," said the blonde child and hoisted up her backpack, "besides, they could do nothing with Abigail is around."

The ghost wailed softly as she finished her words.

"Take good care, you two," Woodie muttered out while chewing on a thin piece of wood, "We will wait at the rocky bridge."

"Be safe, Miss Wendy. And spider boy, too!" Wolfgang hugged the children, who smiled before setting off to the burnt forest, with Abigail floated behind them.

The adults then headed toward the bridge where the Tallbirds reside and waited for the children to come back with the last piece in hand.

After a long while, only Wendy and Webber came; the girl stroked the now closed flower of her twin in her hand.

"Abigail got distracted with the spiders and attacked them," the arachnid child explained. All of them knew it was best to leave the conversation as soon as they heard it.

"Well, we'd better hurry," Maxwell said and brandished out his Dark Sword. "If possible, just run like we did back in the first world and attack only when you have to. Understand?"

Reaching a silent agreement, they then sped through the bridge full of the one-eyed birds without batting an eye even when said beasts stood up and towered over them, screeching as they chased their preys.

"Just keep running! They won't go far within their nests!" the magician shouted in encouragement and true enough, the Tallbirds stopped running and went back to their nests.

Finally, they reached the place where the Wooden Thing was and quickly assembled the Four Things on it before placing the divining rod at its holder.

While Wendy picked up the gears and purple gems that littered the place, Woodie turned to Maxwell in suspicion as the platform started up and revealed the Metal Potato's visage which resembled the magician's. Said man however, didn't notice him; he was busy caressing Willow's hair and spoke soothing words to her.

When Ms. Wickerbottom activated the portal, he welcomed the tight grip on his limbs and the void that swallowed him later on.


	20. Two Worlds: Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaching the midpoint of the Adventure Mode, how will the survivors fare?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the late update; lots of stuff happening at once including a small accident, but all is well by now! (Not for Maxwell though XD)
> 
> I really want to play Hamlet though...especially the Aporkalypse...*sigh*

Maxwell was more than confused to say the least.

He even ignored the voice that greeted him and the rest of the survivors as they landed into the third world of their long journey, which sounded a bit fazed as it spoke, "Say pal, you don't look so good."

He couldn't help but to flinch upon hearing his own words parroted by the current King of the Constant and could imagine the triumphant smirk on the sovereign's face as he stared down to their unconscious forms.

There was a short pause before it went on, "Here's a little deal; your wishes may all be true here. No harm will ever come after you again. Though, I must say this: Move no further, for you will deeply regret it."

He silently snorted as a whoosh entered the air, signalling the gamemaster's departure.

_I have long regretted my decision if you want to know_ , he mused and let his thoughts drifted back to what he had in mind earlier:

What happened to Willow really set his nerves up; like, how could the current King manage to remove her fiery ability? Was it related to the faint light he and Woodie saw back in the snowy world? Was it a form of punishment for harming one of the pawns (albeit inadvertantly)?

What _even_ was going on in the Constant right now?

His train of thoughts however was swiftly interrupted with a sudden poke on his neck. He groaned in annoyance to the one who disturbed his quick slumber and shifted aside to subdue his throbbing temple.

The person prodded him again and disgruntled, he grumpily sat up, muttering out while rubbing his eyes, "For goodness' sake, we're all burnt out here after that last level! Can we at least have a decent nap?"

He then looked forward, only to see the sharp blade of a spear was at his throat. Gulping in fear, he lifted his gaze upward, where a vibrant red-haired woman towered over him, holding the weapon still.

Her outfits alone made it clear that she was some sort of warrior, complete with a winged unicorn etched on her golden helmet. _A Viking, perhaps?_ he pondered.

"Halt, evil öne!" she spoke rather grandly for a threat. "At löng last, I've finally föund yöu!"

He blinked hard as if to process what she meant as she continued, "After all this time, trapped in this... _peaceful_ wörld, yöu have decided tö shöw up! Just in time töö, för I seek the thrills öf a great battle!"

His eyes widened in horror upon realization when she raised her spear, grinning widely at him. "Yöu have been such a great villain, but I'm afraid yöur life ends nöw!!!"

Without second thoughts, he pulled out his trusty Dark Sword in order to parry the attack, causing both weapons to clank upon impact.

"Öh, putting up a fight, aren't yöu?" the female snickered and flexed her shoulders before readying herself in a fighting stance, "Nöw this is getting interesting!"

Maxwell slowly stood up and donned his Night Armour at once, causing the pain in his head doubled within seconds. But he was fighting for his survival, and a few loose screws in the head won't bother him much.

Besides, the lady herself asked for it.

"Listen..." he began and stepped away from his group to avoid any possible incidents, the warrior followed him closely with a smirk, "This is all a huge misunderstanding. Can't we talk about this?"

"Are yöu sure aböut that?" she grinned, her bright green eyes glinted mischievously.

The look she gave him sent the jitters down to his spine.

Seeing it, she added knowingly, "Yöu seem tö löse yöur cömpösure. And like they said, 'Actiöns speak löuder than wörds'!!!"

He only had a few seconds before she sped toward him with a war cry and he blocked the incoming attack with his shadowy sword.

_Quite a gal you brought here_ , he thought with gritted teeth as she put up more energy and he ran out of the way when the tip of her spear ripped out parts of his armsleeve. _Wish I have a shield; that would be more fitting for this fight._

The sound of heavy breathings and weapons clanking slowly stirred everyone else to wake up.

"Already?" the strongman, Wolfgang mumbled out while rubbing his eyes. "I am not good enough for a fight right now!"

"Easy there, Wolfgang," Ms. Wickerbottom softly replied, her head was pounding hard at the moment. "What's with all this racket, Maxwell? Care to explain?" She adjusted her thick-framed spectacles as she spoke.

"Not now; I'm a bit busy here!" the magician hollered as he blocked another swift attack from the stranger.

"The truth will cöme öut söön enöugh!" the redhead shouted, lunging forward to corner her opponent. "Nöw if önly yöu allöw me tö finish this..."

With a tricky flick of her spear, she managed to disarm Maxwell, who was utterly taken aback with it and slammed him onto the hard ground.

The Dark Sword landed helplessly a few feet away from its owner, who was struggling to get free from the firm hand that choked him before he abruptly stopped and gazed at his captor in resignation.

_It's about time_ , _I suppose_ , he thought with a weak smile and the warrior mirrored his action knowingly. _Besides, I doubt they even accept me as part of them in the first place._

_Now, if only I had the chance to talk to Willow..._

As the others tried to clear out their visions, the aforementioned firestarter had her eyes bulged in horror as the stranger held her weapon high with a triumphant smirk, gripping hard at her partner's collar.

"Send my regards when yöu land in Valhalla!!!" she announced and motioned her weapon forward.

"NO!" With a shrill cry, the black-haired woman tackled the redhead and both of them wrestled to keep the spear away from each other.

"Yöu dön't understand!" the warrior began as she clawed her way out of the other's grasp, "He must be killed at önce!!!"

"Just listen to us!" Willow cried out, putting up all her strength to keep her pinned on the ground, "He's not dangerous as you thought!"

"And why was that?"

"That was... he...He's not the King _anymore_!!!" the firestarter shouted and her eyes widened in realization upon the spilled secret before slowly, she turned in fright to the rest of the survivors.

All of them fixed their gaze in disbelief at Maxwell, who in return did the same to her.

The only children of the group, Wendy and Webber were hiding behind Wolfgang's mighty form; the spider child was shaking badly while the blonde simply held her stare toward the man who had saved her from the Treeguard back before they entered the Door.

"You...the _King_?!" Woodie the lumberjack spat out the words to the magician. He then glared at the trapped warrior and Willow, taking the hint reluctantly helped her getting up.

"Do you have any proof?" he barked as she brushed away the dirt all over her outfit.

The redhead only smirked before she said, "Föllöw me."

(line break)

Led by the stranger, the group of seven shuffled across the huge world, taking note on how everywhere seemed...very peaceful.

With the redbirds tweeted as they hopped from tree to tree and the warm wind that blew from west, it reminded them of the world they had left behind before entering the wooden doorway.

However, their attentions were mostly on Maxwell, who was at the front of the group with his hands tied at his back like a culprit.

In which he was, according to the redhead who introduced herself as Wigfrid, the Great Warrior of Norse (they doubt it was even her actual name, but they don't question it). However, they were still exhausted from the last journey back in the snowy world and simply wanted to rest before she suddenly stopped in her tracks, puzzling them.

"Behöld!" she said, spreading her arms as they reached a large clearing of land full of evergreens and devoid of life.

"There isn't anything worthy to be seen here," Woodie grunted until a loud snort entered the air and everyone pulled out their weapons at once bar Maxwell, whose face was more than distraught at the moment.

"Yöu will see," said Wigfrid with a flashy grin and led them to the evergreens, fishing out her spear, "The truth is cöming!!"

Then the pigs showed up. The Guardian Pigs in fact; snorting around and most of them glared angrily as the survivors approached them closer.

"YOU NO COME," one of them spoke, "LEAVE NOW."

"TORCH NEED FIRE!!!" "MORE BURNING!" the ones near the rows of pig torches said and rushed to refuel the flames.

And of course, the quote that Maxwell feared the most:

"KING! KING!" the pigs chorused and bowed as if performing a ritual. As soon as the survivors heard it, they glanced upwards and saw it with agaped mouths:

The gigantic marble statue of Maxwell, posed dramatically with arms raised highly in the air and the smug smile on its carved face told them everything they need to know.

"Please tell us this is all a cruel joke, Maxwell," spoke Ms. Wickerbottom, putting off her glasses and massaged her forehead. Everyone turned to the magician, hoping for him to deny the statement.

With the triumphant smirk of Wigfrid's face and the way how the lanky man cowered as he avoided their gazes, they came to an unpleasant conclusion.

"I knew there was something off about ya," Woodie broke the deafening silence, his words were full of poison and hands kept clenching around his red axe, Lucy every now and then. "Off with your fancy magic stuff then; we don't need ya! A traitor!"

"Don't be so quick to judge him, Woodie! Th-there must be an explanation about this!" said Willow frantically, coming to Maxwell's rescue but even she knew it was useless in the end.

"Wolfgang doesn't believe this! If magic man is bad guy, why is he here with us?"

"To make fool of us all, that is!"

It was then broke into chaos with everyone giving out their opinions of the bounded man that they barely paid any attention until Wendy cleared her throat, signalling them to hear what he had in mind.

"If you must-" the magician spoke, still with head hung low, "-allow me to explain everything. I promise, there will be no more deceit and you all can decide on what to do with me later.

"Death is sweet, after all," he finished with a weak smile.

All of the survivors shared a look before nodding in unison and began to walk back to where they woke up earlier.

"At night," Willow whispered to him as she grabbed hold of his tied hands and led him; they were the last of the group to leave. "For now, let's have some food." She then rested her head on his left shoulder.

"Thank you for saving me back there. I will defend you, whatever they said about you later."

He never felt so teared up with her words until now.

(line break)

When they arrived at the spot they landed earlier that day, they were surprised to see multiple tents set up at once, with only few yards in between of each other.

"There's name on this," Wolfgang inspected one, "This is mine!" He looked around and saw the bipedal pigs again. They however, were only wearing grass skirts that covered their loins.

Wooden houses littered the area, with the pigmen strolling around and instead of attacking him, they themselves scurried away when the strongman neared them.

"So we got the nice ones and the bad ones," said Woodie, hands at his hips as he looked around, "Fair enough, if you ask me."

He shot a piercing glare at Maxwell before walking away, clearly wanting to find the tent that bore his name before night fell.

"Here's ours," Willow said to the magician, pointed at the two green structures which were quite close to each other. "Come; you sit here while I search for some food."

Reluctantly, he only watched as she set off while everyone else went to find their own tent.

It wasn't until later did the thought of the divining rod crossed his mind and he scanned around to see if there was one in its usual holder near the place they spawned earlier that day.

The homing device wasn't there.

He blinked in incredulity upon the realization. _Could it be_ _on the other island?_ he pondered.

He was then interrupted by the waft smell of meatballs and saw the very warrior who had exposed him to the rest of the survivors stood before him.

"Yöu must be starving," she said curtly and shoved the bowl in his hands before kneeling down and untied him.

He massaged his reddened wrists after she finished her work and towered against him again. "I expect yöu being truthful tönight, ötherwise yöu will never get tö see daylight again."

He ruefully scowled at her as she skipped to the grasslands where the beefalos were and watched in awe as she felled them one by one until only eight of them remained. Collecting the loots left behind, she then returned to his tent and set up a campfire.

"Don't you eat carrots or berries?" he couldn't help asking as he chewed on one of the meatballs. It felt nice to have meat again as his diet, especially since the rabbits' weren't enough to satiate his hunger. "Surely you won't eat those meats by yourself."

"Thöse are nöt fööd fit för a warriör," she simply said while roasting one of the beefalo meat over the fire and waited until it seemed cooked enough and she sank her teeth onto it, chewing a large part of it.

_She must be ravenous to get those on daily basis,_ he thought with a slight shudder before finishing his meal.

Soon dusk came, and everyone went to Willow and Maxwell's tents with pockets full of useful items. Wendy, the ever-resourceful child set up a few crockpots with Webber's help while the valiant warrior gave her shares of food to everyone else.

The aromatic smell of steaming meatballs brought them to indulge the hearty meals just as night fell.

"That was good food!" spoke Wolfgang, leaning against a large boulder and rubbed his full belly. "Can I join you in hunt later?" he asked Wigfrid, who was sharpening her spear's blade with a piece of flint.

"Nöt nöw, I'm afraid. We'll have tö wait a few days to hunt söme möre," she said and placed her weapon aside, "but I sure can use yöur mighty förm's assistance söön!"

"We're good friends then!" Both of them grinned as they clasped hands together.

"I guess now's story time," said Wendy nonchalantly as she stroked her twin sister's flower, "if you're ready enough." She gazed at Maxwell through the corner of her eyes.

All of the survivors were in a circle with the magician was at the center; their weapons were left on the ground near them if something unexpected happened.

The man gulped nervously and stared at Willow, who gave him a small smile and a thumb-up.

Clearing his throat, he then began his story; telling them his actual name and his life journey before ended up being in the Constant. He told them how he had ruled over the world for such a long time when finally, the current King was mentioned and everyone looked around in horror.

"He held a grudge against me," he said, looking into the darkness where his beloved assistant was. "And so does she.

"Feel free to do whatever it is to me; it's been nice knowing you," he concluded.

Silence fell soon after, with everyone's face were solemn.

"We will decide tönight," spoke Wigfrid, glancing at Woodie in the meantime; the lumberjack had his teeth grounded hard in his mouth. "Gö have yöur rest; it might as well be yöur last."

He shuddered upon seeing the weak smile in her face.

Turning to his partner Willow, he then reluctantly entered his tent and pulled out his old pair of glasses.

_You did good, pal_ , he couldn't help the small lift of the corner of his mouth before lying down and covered himself in a blanket made of beefalo wool, trying to distract himself from thinking about tomorrow.

When he woke up the next day, he was momentarily blinded by the sunlight and turned his gaze aside to Willow, who was beaming at him.

"About time, old man," she joked and handed him a bowl of meatballs. "Here's your share."

"Wh-where's everyone else?" he asked and got up, stifling a yawn.

"Oh, they decided to let you be. Most of us vouched for you anyway, so that's why you're still here."

"How nice of you, and them all," he half sneered and took his breakfast.

"Aw, don't be sad," the firestarter scooted nearer and hugged him, "It was Wigfrid's idea, you know. She convinced Woodie to let it go. And for some reason, after talking to his red axe did only he agree."

"That's strange if you ask me." With a shrug, he then bit into his meal.

Willow only smiled as she watched her partner ate when her eyes fell on the spectacles beside him.

"Is this yours?" she asked and took it. He froze for a moment before nodding, chewing his meal with a grimace.

"Why didn't you wear it?"

"I don't need it much now."

To his surprise, the woman giggled as she swiftly put on the glasses on him, which caused him to grumble in annoyance. Good thing that he had finished his breakfast, otherwise his suit would be ruined. And he doubted the ponds were clean enough to remove the stain.

"How do I look?" he asked in deadpan, setting the now empty bowl aside.

"You...look much younger," was the answer.

"Really?" Now it was his turn to be surprised.

"Why would I lie about that?"

After short breaks of laughter, they then decided to get to work. Upon the way to fetch some twigs and grasses, they stumbled across the woodsman, who merely raised his eyebrows to them.

"You look like a dork," he remarked upon noticing Maxwell's glasses. "No offense," he added quickly.

"None taken," the magician replied with a smile before he and Willow set off to the meadows.

_I wonder if I did the right thing_ , the ginger-haired man thought as he watched their forms getting farther. Glancing at the sun, he decided there was still time to chop more trees, and off he went.

(line break)

"Shouldn't we stay at the main campsite?" Webber asked the only female child of the group, Wendy as they traversed the large island. "We should collect more items, you know."

"You can go yourself if you want," was the curt reply. "Besides, you will not like the place I'm heading to."

"Pffft," the spider child laughed, brushing away the thought. "It wasn't like anything had attacked us before! Of course there are-"

His words were halted as Wendy suddenly stopped and stared into all of his eight eyes.

"Pigs," she hissed. Before he had a chance to interrupt, she continued, "I'm going to ask them if they have met the King before, and since spiders are their common enemies, I don't think you will fare well."

Webber could feel the telltale chill in his spine as she spat out the honest words.

"O-OK then," he said in defeat and trudged away from her. "We will see you here again, if that's alright with you?"

"More than fine."

The blonde watched as he made eye contact with her before finally turning away and made his way to the forest.

She sighed; she didn't mean to be harsh to him but it was the truth; his appearance would cause panic among the pigs and her plans will be ruined.

All she wanted now were possible clues about the current King.

"Greetings," she said to a pigman near her; the stinky smell of it that filled her senses was shoved aside. _It was for answers_ , she told herself.

"WHAT YOU GOT?" it grunted.

"Do-" she stopped midway, trying to use simple sentences so the pigman could understand. "Other people here?" she asked instead, inwardly cringing at her attempt. "Besides us? And warrior lady?"

The pig only blinked hard at her.

_I knew it_ , she lamented and began to turn away.

"TELL NAME FIRST," it said with narrowed eyes. She shrugged; the suspicion on her was rather unexpected but she knew there was more to it if she could indulge deeper into the conversation.

"Wendy."

"NAME WILBUR."

"Hello, Wilbur. Answer my questions. If you mind."

"THERE WAS FRIEND," it started wistfully, she noted. "COME WITH ME."

She followed Wilbur to his house, a rather small wooden one at the skirts of the forest Webber had gone to.

"BAG WAS FRIEND," he continued as they arrived, handing her a worn-looking backpack. She turned it over; there were mud stains here and there but otherwise it was still good. The bag was also rather bulky, which rose her curiosity about the mystery.

"Where is he?" she asked.

There was a pause before he finally said, "HE GIVE ME. GO TO HOLE. NO COME BACK."

_So there_ is _a way to get out of this island,_ she thought. _A hole, he said. Might ask Wigfrid of it._

"Tell you what," she assured the pigman, "We find friend, and give bag. If you want?"

"REALLY?" Wilbur squealed happily. "I LOVE FRIEND!" He then lifted her and spun her around, giggling. When he set her down later on, she gave him a half smile whereas deep down she wanted to strangle the pigman for doing such a joyful act on her.

"Wendy?" a throaty voice called her name and she snapped her neck toward the newly-arrived spider hybrid, three black cat-sized arachnids were at his feet.

A loud snort entered the air and she looked at Wilbur in horror. He had his beady black eyes fixed onto the black critters, his teeth bared out dangerously.

"Why are you still here? GO!" she shrieked, just as the pigman launched himself towards Webber.

The hybrid only had the time to duck in fear when he heard a whine behind him and he peeked behind:

The pigman was wrestling with a dark blue hound on the ground. He was paralyzed; watching as they tried to get a bite of each other until the sharp tug of his arm brought him back to reality.

"We need to go. _Now,_ " Wendy told him through gritted teeth, gripping hard on his wrist.

"There will be more to come."

With teary eyes, he only let the girl led him and his new friends out of the forest; howls of the canine filled the air in each step.

(line break)

Wigfrid adjusted her golden helmet on her head and held her battle spear tightly; her heart was hammering hard in her chest but she knew she shouldn't let her fears visible.

Everything on this world was merely a test.

A test of her reliability.

For the survivors counted on her when it comes to the island's surroundings. Now that the baying of the hounds were echoing across the plains, and from afar she could see the figures of Wolfgang, Maxwell and Willow rushed toward her.

"The scary puppies are here!" the strongman announced as they arrived, panting. About ten hounds had emerged from the forest and ran toward them, tongues lolling and sharp teeth glistening with saliva.

"Then what are we waiting för? Let's fight them!" she shouted valiantly and readied herself.

"Nöw is yöur chance tö redeem yöurself," she whispered to Maxwell with a smirk, who froze upon hearing her words.

"I will show you I _am_ worthy to be kept alive," he hissed and pulled out his Dark Sword.

"Suit yöurself." Flexing her shoulders, she then sped toward the pack of ferocious hounds with her battle spear raised.

"Valhalla awaits!"

(line break)

Wendy hated herself.

She knew it wasn't anyone's fault that she was weak when it comes to defend herself, and that was why.

After running a few yards, she skidded and turned back around, not wanting her only source of information about the King died. And so, she went back toward the forest, with Webber shouting her name.

She knew she was selfish in saving the pigman, but it was worth a shot.

When she arrived however, it was too late.

Three dead bodies of hounds were sprawling on the ground. And Wilbur was leaning against a large evergreen, hooves brushed over the gaping wound at his side.

"You..." she croaked and sat beside him, staring at the injury in disbelief.

"You will be fine," she said with tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes, "I-I think I got something to nurse you back." She rummaged the insides of her backpack before stopping.

There was nothing to heal him. Her salves hadn't been restocked and Abigail was still out to help her dealing with the aggressive bees.

"I'm sorry, Wilbur," she averted her gaze on the pigman.

Instead of a grimace, a smile made its way on Wilbur's face and he lifted his bloody hoof to her face. She clasped his limb, smearing her visage with his blood.

"YOU DID GOOD," he spoke between heavy breaths. "TELL BOY-SPIDER...WILBUR WAS SORRY."

"Of course, Wilbur. Thank you again, for your help," Wendy said tearfully, her body was shaking. She had never cried since Abigail's passing, but this one was an exception.

"WILL GIVE BAG...TO FRIEND?"

"I-I will."

"TAKE WILBUR HIDE. WILL HELP YOU..." A long gasp escaped his mouth and she instantly knew he had left.

"Rest well, Wilbur," she muttered, closing his eyes.

It wasn't long until Webber arrived and before the sun set, both children dug a grave near the pigman's house, carving his name on a cut stone with a flint.

When they stepped into the main camp as dusk fell, everyone asked them where they had gone for the day, though not the worn backpack Wendy had brought along. Both of them didn't answer, with the blonde entered her tent at once.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Webber," she began.

"No; it's alright. I understand why you did it, so it's fine, I suppose," said Webber while petting one of his new friends.

_Too forgiving_ , Wendy thought, _but it suits him well._

"What are your friends' name?" she asked the human arachnid after everyone else went to sleep, not bothering to wash the now dried blood stain on her pale face.

"Albert, Bernie, and Charlotte," was the whispered reply.

She inwardly laughed in bitterness before lowering the folds and buried herself under the beefalo wool blanket.

_What a world we lived in_.

(line break)

_The fourth day in this mundane world_ , Woodie noted while taking a stroll in the forest early in the morning. Yesterday wasn't really eventful, since they had dealt with the hounds two days ago.

He missed the misty days back in Canada, and today was no different. All he needed now was...

_"Woodie,"_ a feminine voice entered the air and he smiled.

"Hello, Lucy," he greeted enthusiastically, caressing the blade of his red axe fondly.

_"Can we get to work already?"_ she asked, _"It's been so long..."_

The woodsman chuckled, knowing better than to argue with her. "I know Luce; in fact I'm about to chop some!"

_"Let's go then!"_

Soon enough, about seven large evergreens had fallen onto the ground and the woodsman wiped beads of sweat on his forehead, more than happy to do his job.

He needed to take a break though, as he slowly felt the familiar goosebumps all over the nape of his neck.

A lone tent suddenly caught his eyes and he headed toward it, telling Lucy to be silent and placed his prized item at his belt.

"Hey," he greeted the resident warrior of the third world, Wigfrid as he stepped into her camp.

He still wondered why would the King place her far away from the rest of the survivors, but he decided to keep the question away at the meantime.

"Öh, hellö Wöödie," the redhead replied, wiping away beads of sweat on her forehead. She too, was chopping down some evergreens when he appeared. "Have a seat, I'll be döne söön." Nodding in acknowledgement, he settled near the fire pit.

"You might wanna slow down a bit," he said in caution when she continued her job, "sometimes even these trees will kill you if you aren't careful."

"Nöthing can stand ön this warriör's path!" she grinned, swinging her axe with such energy to the trunk of a large tree. "I will vanquish them all with my all-löyal spear!!!"

Woodie shook his head in amusement as he heard her.

_Just another Wolfgang_ , he mused, _but stronger and hot-tempered. A bit._

"Getting prepared, eh?" he asked after a while.

"Yep," came the short reply.

"What for? Surely the King had told you there's no danger here. Apart from the darkness, that is."

The woman froze upon hearing his words. Her last swing of the axe caused it to break upon impact, and even as the tree fell onto the ground with a loud creak, she took no notice of it.

"The darkness?" she asked innocently and stood up straight, folding her arms before frowning in suspicion. "Yöu can't be seriöus."

The lumberjack was shocked with her statement and so, he got up as well. "But it's true! You will get killed if you stay in the dark for so long!" he explained.

"Isn't night as benign as day?" she argued. "Yöu must have göne cucköö after spending time in this wörld."

That brought the man's attention. "Don't tell me you haven't died yet."

"Nöw why wöuld you say that?"

Silence entered the air, leaving the question hanging around.

"Just...don't go into the darkness without a light source, would ya?" said Woodie with a defeated sigh, "Please."

She stared at him, whose eyes were pleading to her as if to keep his words in mind.

"Yöu dö knöw that it's everyöne's instinct tö have a light söurce during night, right?" she asked instead, causing the man's face to redden immediately.

It wasn't long before they broke into laughter and spent the rest of the day sharing their survival stories in the Constant.

When dusk came, Wigfrid bade the woodsman goodbye and waited until he disappeared from her sight before picking up the wooden logs and placed them near her fire pit. Amidst her work, she gazed up at the reddish sky and saw the faint outline of the half-moon among the clouds.

Seeing it, she beamed.

The redhead turned to her wooden chest and opened it. Most of the items inside the container were basic stuff like flints and twigs, but there was something that stood out among all of them.

A thick bundle of papyrus, placed neatly between the gold nuggets and the rocks.

Taking the rough sheets of paper out, she scooted closer to the fire pit and started it up with some wood before reading what was written on them.

Her cheeks flushed in acknowledgement on what was in store for her when night fell soon.

All she need now, was to give out her best.

_Let the test of my incredible acting begin._

(line break)

It was dark and cold, but he didn't care less about the current sombre mood inside the prison he was locked in.

For it was the time where he and his dear friend will be free from the ever-watching eyes of Them, and even though it only lasted for two days, he thought it was more than enough for a short break from causing chaos in the Constant.

He took a glance at the crystal orb he had summoned and saw his favorite pawn reflected on its shiny surface, who was setting up her stage as bright as possible.

His smile grew wider when she took the paper he had left and started practising her lines with such vigor.

"Are you ready now?" he asked absent-mindedly to the endless void around him.

Something stirred in the darkness before slowly, a female figure appeared within the centre of the Throne Room, fire from the stone pillars that lined up the path sprang to life in each of her steps.

"You look...exceptionally beautiful tonight," he praised and got up from his seat, bowing to her when she finally stood in front of him.

"My King," the woman curtsied in return and stood up straight again, "Thank you for the compliment." Then she frowned.

"Are you sure this is safe? Leaving the Nightmare Throne for two days? Do They even know about this?" she voiced her concern, but a finger placed on her lips told her everything.

"Now, let's not ruin the mood. Don't even think of Them at the moment," he said with a smile, cupping her right cheek and trailed his fingers over her short hair.

"You do like theatres, right?"


End file.
